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LAST OF 
THE AUCAS 


GUSTAVE 

AIMABU 


AUTHOR OF 

“The Flying Horseman,^' 
“ The Insurgent Chief,” 
Etc,, Etc. 


EnteMd M tho Poet OSm, NT. T., ai Mo«D4-olut outtor. Cop 
Aauoal SabM^^iioa, 


mTisOT* OoMPAMT. Inuod Xii-WeAlp. 




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LOVELL^S LIBRAR7: 


COMPLETE CATALOGUE BY AUTHORS. 


LovELii’S Library now contains the complete writings of most of the best standard 
authors, such as Dickens, Thackeray, Eliot, Carlyle, Buskin, Scott, Lytton, Black, etc., 
etc. 

Each number is issued in neat 12mo form, and the type will be found larger, and the 
paper better, than in any other cheap series published. 

JOHN W. L.OVEI 4 L. COMPANY, 

P. 0. Box 1992. 14: and 16 Vesey St., New York. 


BY G. M. ADAM AND A. E. 


WETHERALD 

846 An Algonquin Maiden 20 

BY MAX ADELER 

295 Random Shots 20 

825 Elbow Room 20 

BY GUSTAVE AIMARD 

560 The Adventurers 10 

667 The Trail-Hunter 10 

673 Pearl of the Andes 10 

jOll Pirates of the Prairies 10 

3021 The Trapper’s Daughter 10 

3032 The Tiger Siayer 10 

1045 Trappers of Arkansas. 10 

1052 Border Rifles 10 

3063 The Freeboofcrs 10 

1069 The White Scalper 10 

BY MRS. ALDERDICE 

846 An Interesting Case 20 

BY MRS. ALEXANDER 

62 The \Vo.)ing O’t, 2 Parts, each 16 

99 The Admiral’s Ward 20 

209 The Exc-cutor 20 

349 Valerie's Fate 10 

664 At Bay 10 

746 Beaton’s Bargain 20 

777 A Second Life 20 

790 Maid. Wife, or Widow 10 

840 Hy Woman’s Wit 20 

995 Which Shall it Be? 20 

BY F. ANSTEY 

SO Vice V ersk ; or, A Les-son to Fathers. . 20 

394 Tue Giant’s Robe 20 

453 Black Poodle, and O^er Tales 20 

616 The Tinted Venus 15 

755 A Fallen Idol 20 

BY T. S. ARTHUR 

496 Woman’s Trials 20 

507 The Two Wives 15 

618 Married Life 15 

638 The Ways of Providence 15 

545 Home Scenes 15 

554 Stories for Parents 15 

563 Seed-Time and Harv'ost 15 

668 Words for the Wise 15 

674 Stories for Young HousekeeiKJrs 15 

579 Lessons in Life 15 

582 Off-Hand Sketches .15 

885 Tried and Tempted 15 


BY HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN 


419 Fairy Tales 20 

BY EDWIN ARNOLD 

436 The Light of Asia 20 

455 Pearls of the Faith 15 

472 Indian Song of Songs 10 

BY W. E. AYTOUN 

351 Lays of the Scottish Cavaliers 2ft 

BY ADAM BADEAU 

756 Conspiracy 25 

BY SIR SAMUEL BAKER 

206 Cast up by the Sea 20 

227 Rifle and Hound in Ceylon 20 

233 Eight Years’ Wandering in Ceylon. .20 

BY C. W. BALESTIER 

381 A Fair Device 20 

405 Life of J. G. Blaine 20 

BY R. M. BALLANTYNE 

215 The Red Eric 20 

226 The Fire Brigade 20 

239 Erling the Bold 20 

241 Deep Down 20 

BY S. BAftlNG-GOTTLD 

878 Little Tu’penny 10 

BY GEORGE MIDDLETON BAYNE 

460 Galaski 20 

BY AUGUST BEBEL 

712 Woman 30 

BY MRS. E. BEDELL BENJAMIN 

748 Our Roman Palace 20 

BY A. BENRIMO 

470 Vic 15 

BY E. BERGER 

901 Charles Auchester 20 

BY W. BERGSOE 

77 Piilono 15 

BY E. BERTHET 

366 The Sergeant's Legacy 20 

BY BJORNSTJERNE BJORNSON 

3 The Happy Boy 10 

4 Arne 10 


1 


LOVELL'S LIBRARY 


BY WALTER BESANT 

18 They Were Married 10 

103 Let Nothin.!? You Dismay 10 

257 All in a Garden Fair 20 

268 When the Ship Comes Home 10 

88-1 Dorothy Forster 20 

GOO Self or Bearer 10 

842 The World Went Very Well Then . .20 

847 The Holy Rose 10 

2002 To Call Her Mine 20 

BY WILLIAM BLACK 

40 An Adventure in Thule, etc 10 

48 A Princess of Thule 20 

82 A Daughter of Heth 20 

85 Shandon Bells 20 

03 lilacleod of Dare 20 

136 Yolande. 20 

142 Strange Adventures of a Phaeton. . . 20 

146 White Wings 20 

153 Sunrise, 2 Parts, each 15 

178 Madcap Violet 20 

180 Kilmeny 20 

182 That Beautiful Wretch 20 

184 Green Pastures, etc 20 

188 In Silk Attire 20 

213 'I’he Three Feathers 20 

216 Lady Silverdale’s Sweetheart 10 

217 The Four MacNicols 10 

, 218 Ml . Pi.sjstratus Brown, M.P 10 

225 Oliver G-oldsiuith 10 

282 Monarch of Mincing Lane 20 

456 Judith Shakespeare 20 

684 Wise Women of Inverness 10 

C78 Vv'hite Heather 20 

058 Sabina Zembra 20 

BY MISS M. E. BKADDOJT 

R8 The Golden Calf 2C 

jo4 Lady Audley's Seex-et 20 

214 Phantom Fortune 20 

266 Under the Red Flag 10 

444 An Ishmaelite 20 

555 A.ui*oi'a Flovd 20 

688 To the Bitter End 20 

696 Dead Sea Fruit 20 

G98 The Mistletoe Bough 20 

766 Vixen 20 

783 The Octoroon 20 

814 Mohawks 20 

868 One Thing Needful 20 

860 Barbara; ox*, Splendid Misery 20 

870 John Marchinont’s Legacy 20 

871 Joshua Hag.gard’s Daughter 20 

872 O’aken at the Flood 20 

873 Asphodel 20 

877 The Doctor's Wife 20 

878 Only a Clod 20 

879 Sir J asper's Tenant 20 

880 Lad.v’sMile 20 

881 Birds of Prey 20 

882 Charlotte’s inhex*itance 20 

S&I Rupert Godwin 20 

886 Strangei’s and Pilgrims 20 

887 A Strange World 20 

888 Mouixt Royal 20 

889 J ust As I Am 20 

8iK) Dead Men’s Shoes 20 

892 Hostages to Fortune 20 

893 Fenton’s Quest 20 

894 The Cloven Foot 20 


BY FRANK BARRETT. 

1009 The Great Hesper 

BY R. D. BLACKMORE 

851 Lorna Doone, Part 1 20 

861 Lorna Doone, Part II 20 

936 Maid of Sker ... . . 20 

955 Cradock Nowell, Part 1 20 

955 Cradock Nowell, Part II 20 

961 Springhaven 20 

1034 Mary Anerley 20 

1035 Alice Lorraixie 20 

1036 Cristowell 20 

1037 Clara Vaughan 20 

1038 Cripps the Carx'ier 20 

1039 Remarkable Histoi’y of Sir Thomas 

Upmore 20 

1040 Erema ; or, My Father’s Sin 20 

BY LILLIE D. BLAKE 

1 05 Woman’s Place To-day 20 

697 Fettered for Life 25 

BY ANNIE BRADSHAW 

716 A Cx'imsoxi Stain 20 

BY CHARLOTTE BREMER 

448 Life of Fredrika Bx-enier 20 

BY CHARLOTTE BRONTE 

74 Jane Eyre 20 

8!)7 Shirley 20 

BY RHODA BRODGHTON 

23 Second Thoughts 20 

230 Belinda 20 

781 Betty’s Visions 15 

841 Dr. Cupid 20 

1022 Good-Bye, Sweetheart 20 

1025 Red as a Rose is She 20 

1024 Cometh up as a Flower 20 

1025 Not Wisely but too Well 20 

1026 Nancy 20 

1027 Joan 20 

BY ELIZABETH BARRETT 
BROWNING 

421 A ui’ora Leigh 20 

419 Poems 35 

BY ROBERT BROWNING 

552 Selections from Poetical Works 20 

BY WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT 

443 Poems , 20 

BY ROBERT BUCHANAN 

318 The New Abelard 20 

696 The Master of the Mine 10 

BY JOHN BUNYAN 

200 The Pil.grim’s ProgTes.s 20 

BY ROBERT BURNS 

430 Poems 20 

BY REV. JAS. S. BUSH 

113 More Words about the Bible 20 

BY E. LASSETER BYNNER 

100 Nimport, 2 Parts, each 15 

102 Tritons, 2 Parts; each 16 


2 


LOVELL’S LIBRARY. 


BY THOKAS CAMPBELL 


126 Poems 20 

BY EOSA NOUCHETE CAEEY 

660 For Lilias 20 

Oil Not Like othfer Girls 20 

1)12 Robert Ord’s Atonement 20 

1)59 Wee Wifie 20 

OGO Wooed and Married .... 20 

BY WM. CARLETON 

190 Willy Reilly 20 

fc20 Shane Fadirs Wedding 10 

bill Larry McFarland’s Wake 10 

822 The Party Fight and Funeral 10 

823 The Midnight Mass 10 

824 PliilPurcel 10 

825 An Irish Oath 10 

826 Going to Maynooth 10 

827 Phelira O’Toole’s Courtship 10 

828 Dominick, the Poor Scholar 10 

629 Neal Malone 10 

BY THOMAS CARLYLE 

History of French Revolution, 2 

Parts, each 25 

4^4 Past and Present 20 

LjO The Diamond Necklace ; and Mira- 

beau 15 

503 Chartism 20 

6 8 Sartor Resart us 20 

614 Early Kings of Norv/uy 20 

620 Jean Paul Friedrich Richter 10 

622 Goethe, and Miscellaneous Essays. . .10 

525 Life of Heyne 15 

528 Voltaire and NovalP 15 

641 Heroes, and Hero-Worship 20 

540 Signs of the Times 15 

550 German Literature 15 

661 Portraits of John Knc:c 15 

671 Count Cagiiostro, etc 15 

678 Frederick the Great, Vol. I 20 

680 ‘‘ •• Vol. II 20 

591 “ “ “ Vol. Ill 20 

610 “ “ “ Vol. IV 20 

()i9 “ “ “ Vol. V 20 

622 “ “ Vol. VI 20 

626 “ Vol. VII 20 

628 “ “ “ Vol. VIII 20 

630 Life of John Sterling 20 

6 13 Latter-Day Pamphlets 20 

6‘36 Life of Schiller 20 

613 Oliver Cromwell, Vol. 1 25 

646 “ “ Vol. IT 25 

(549 “ “ Vol. Ill 25 

652 Characteristics and other Essays. . . 15 

(‘56 Corn Law Rhymes and other Es.saj's. 15 

G58 Daillie the Ckjvenantcr and other Es- 
says 15 

CGI Dr. 1 raiicia and other Essays 15 

L7 LEY7IS CARROLL 

4S0 Alice’s Adventures 20 

4j 1 Through the Looking-Glass 20 

BY “CAVENDISH” 

422 Cavendish Card Essays 15 

BY CERVANTES 

417 Don Quixote SO 

BY L. W. CHAMPNEY 

119 Bourbon Lilies . .• 20 


BY VICTOR CHERBULIEZ 


Samuel Brohl & Co 2® 

BY BERTHA M. CLAY 

Her Mother’s Sin 20 

Dora Thorne 20 

Beyond Pardon 20 

A Broken Wedding-Ring 20 

Repented at Leisure 20 

Sunshine and Roses 20 

The Earl's Atonement 20 

A Woman’s Temptation 20 

Love Works Wonders ,20 

Fair but False 10 

Between Two Sins 10 

At War with Herself 15 

Hilda 10 

Her Martyrdom 20 

Lord Lynn’s Choice 10 

The Shadow of a Sin 10 

Wedded and Parted 10 

In Cupid’s Net 10 

Lady Darner’s Secret 20 

A Gilded Sin 10 

Between Two Loves 20 

For Another’s Sin 20 

Romance of a Young Girl 20 

A Queen Amongst Women 10 

A Golden Dawn 10 

Like no Other Love 10 

A Bitter Atonement 20 

Evelyn’s Folly 20 

Set in Diamonds 20 

A Fair Myster}' 20 

Thorns and Orange Blossoms 10 

Romance of a Black Veil 10 

Love’s Warfare 10 

Madolin’s Lover 20 

From Out tlie Gloom 20 

Which Loved Him Be^t 13 

A True Magdalen 20 

The Sin of a Lifetime 20 

Prince Charlie’s Daughter 10 

A Golden Heart 10 

Vv’ife in Name Only 20 

A Woman’s Error 20 

Marjorie 20 

A Wilful Maid 20 

Lady Castlemaine’s Divorce 20 

Claribers Love Story 20 

Thrown on the Worid 20 

Under a Shadow 20 

A Struggle for a R.ing 20 

Hilary's Folly 20 

A Haunted Life 20 

A Woman's Love Story 20 

A Woman’s War 20 

’Twixt Smile and Tear 20 

Lady Diana’s Pride 20 

Belle of Ly. n 20 

."Marjorie's Fate 20 

Sweec Cymbeline 20 

Redeemed by Love 20 

The Squire's Darling 10 

The Mystery of Colde Fell 20 

The Shattered Idol 10 

Letty Leiyh. 10 

The Earl's Error 10 

Arnold’s Promise IG 

BY S. T. COLERIDGE 

Poems .30 


242 

183 

277 

287 

420 

423 

458 

465 

474 

476 

558 

593 

651 

669 

689 

692 

694 

695 

700 

701 

718 

720 

727 

730 

733 

738 

789 

740 

744 

752 

764 

800 

801 

803 

804 

806 

807 

808 

809 

810 

811 

812 

815 

896 

922 

923 

926 

928 

929 

930 

932 

933 

934 

969 

984 

985 

986 

988 

989 

1007 

10P2 

1013 

1031 

11)34 

1042 

1043 

524 

8 


LOVELL\S LIBRARY 


BY WILKIE COLLINS 


8 The Moonstone, Part 1 10 

9 The Moonstone, Part 11 10 

24 The New Magdalen 20 

87 Heart and Science 20 

418 “I Say No” 20 

4*j 7 Tales of Two Idle Apprentices 15 

The Ghost’s Touch 10 

086 My Lad 3 '^’s Money 10 

722 The Evil Genius 20 

839 The Guilty River 10 

957 The Dead Secret. 20 

9i«{) The Queen of Hearts 20 

1003 The Haunted Hotel 10 

BY HUGH CONWAY 

429 Called Back 15 

462 Dark Days 15 

612 C irriston’s Gift 10 

617 Paul Vargas: a Mystery 10 

631 A Family Affair 20 

667 Story of a Sculptor 10 

672 Slings and Arrows 10 

715 A Curdiiial Sin 20 

745 Living or Dead 20 

750 Somebody’s Story 10 

IH)8 Bound b.va Spell 20 

BY J. FENIMORE COOPER 

6 The Last of the Mohicans 20 

53 The Spy 20 

865 The Patiifinder 20 

378 Homeward Bound 20 

441 Home as Found 20 

463 The Deerslayer 30 

467 The Prairie 20 

471 The Pioneer 25 

484 The Two Admirals 20 

488 The Water- Witch ". 20 

491 The Red Rover 20 

501 The Pilot 20 

506 Wing and Wing 20 

5 1 2 Wyandotte 20 

517 Heidenmauer 20 

51 9 The Headsman 20 

524 The Bravo 20 

527 Lionel Lincoln 20 

529 Wept of Wish-ton-Wisli 20 

532 Afloat and Ashore 25 

539 Miles Wallimrford 20 

543 The Monikins 20 

548 Mercedes of Castile 20 

553 The Sea Lions 20 

559 Tiie Grater 20 

5''i2 Oak Openings 20 

570 Satanstoe 20 

576 The Chain-Bearer 20 

587 Ways of the Hour 20 

01 1 Precaution 20 

603 Redskins 25 

611 Jack Tier 20 

BY KINAHAN CORNWALLIS 

409 Adrift with a Vengeance 25 

BY REV. JAS. FREEMAN CLARK 

167 Anti-Slavery Days 20 


BY GEORGIANA M. CRAIK 

1006 A Daughter of the People 20 


BY R. CRISWELL 

350 Grandfather Lickshingle 2<l 

BY R. H. DANA, JR. 

464 Two Years before the Mast 20 

BY DANTE 

345 Dante’s Vision of Hell, Purgatory, 

and Paradise 20 

BY FLORA A. DARLING 

260 Mrs. Darling’s War Letters 20 

BY JOYCE DARRELL 

315 Winifred Power 20 

BY ALPHONSE DADDET 

478 Tartarin of Tarascon 20 

604 Sidonio 20 

613 Jack 20 

615 The Little Good-for-Nothing 20 

645 Tue Nabob .25 

BY REV. C. H. DAVIES, D.D. 

453 Mystic London 20 

BY THE DEAN OF ST. PAUL’S 

431 Life of Spenser 10 

BY C. DEBANS 

475 A Sheep in Wolf’s Clothing 20 

BY REV. C. F. DEEMS, D.D. 

704 Evolution 20 

BY DANIEL DEFOE 

428 Robinson Crusoe 25 

BY THOS. DE QUINCEY 

20 The Spanish Nun 10 

BY CHARLES DICKENS 

10 Oliver Twist 20 

38 A Tale of Two Cities 20 

75 Child’s History of England ...20 

91 Pickwick Papers, 2 Parts, each 20 

140 The Cricket on the Hearth 10 

144 Old Curiosity Shop, 2 Parts, each... 15 

150 Barnaby Radge, 2 Parts, each 15 

158 David Copperfield, 2 Parts, each 20 

170 Hard Times 20 

192 Great Exv^ectations 20 

201 Martin Chnzzlewit, 2 Parts, each. . ..20 

210 American Notes 20 

219 Dornbey and Son. 2 Parts, each 20 

223 Little Dorrit, 2 Parts, each 20 

228 Our Mutual Friend. 2 Parts, each... 20 

2^31 Nicholas Nickleby, 2 Parts, each 20 

234 Pictures from Italy 10 

237 The Boy at Mugby 10 

244 Bleak IJouse, 2 Parts, each 20 

246 Sketches of the Young Couples 10 

261 Master Humphrey’s Clock 10 

267 The Haunted House, etc 10 

270 The Mudfog Papers, etc 10 

273 Sketches by Boz 20 

274 A Christmas Carol, etc 15 

282 Uncommercial Traveller 20 

VS8 Somebody’s Luggage, etc. 10 

293 The Battle of Life, etc 10 

297 Mystery of Edwin Drood . 20 

298 Reprinted Pieces 20 

302 No Thoroughfare 15 

437 Tales of Two Idle Apprentices. 10 


4 


LOVELL^S LIBRARY 


BY CARL DETLEF 

27 Irene ; or, The Lonely Manor 20 

BY PROF. BOWDEN 

404 Life of Southey 10 

BY JOHN DRYDEN 

498 Poems SO 

BY DU BOISGOBEY 

1018 Condemned Door 20 

BY THE “DUCHESS” 

58 Portia 20 

76 Molly Bawn 20 

78 Phyllis... 20 

86 Monica 10 

90 Mrs. Geoffrey 20 

92 Airy Fairy Lilian 20 

126 Loys, Lord Beresford 20 

132 Moonshine and Marguerites 10 

162 Faith and Unfaith ...20 

168 Beauty’s Daughters 20 

284 llossmoyne 20 

451 Doris 20 

477 A Week in Kiilarney 10 

530 In Durance Vile 10 

618 Dick’s Sweetheart ; or, ‘‘ O Tender 

Dolores” 20 

621 A Maiden all Forlorn 10 

624 A Passive Ci-ime IJ 

721 Lady Branksmere 20 

735 A Mental Struggle 20 

737 The Haunted Chamber 10 

792 Her W«-ek’s Amusement 10 

802 Lady Valworth's Diamonds 20 

BY LORD DUFFEEIN 

95 Letters from High Latitudes 20 

BY ALEXANDRE DUHAS 

761 Count of Mtnito Cristo, Part 1 20 

761 Count of Monte Cristo, Part II 20 

775 The Three Guardsmen 20 

786 Twenty Years After 20 

884 The Son of Monte Cristo, Part I. . .20 

884 The Son of Monte Cristo, Part II.. .l^iO 

885 Monte Cristo and His Wife 20 

891 Countess of Monte Cr sto. Part I. . .20 

891 Countess of Monte Cristo, Part II... 20 

998 Bean Tancr de 20 

BY ALEXANDRE DUMA3, JR. 

992 Camille 10 

BY MRS. ANNIE EDWARDS 

681 A Girton Girl 20 

BY GEORGE ELIOT 

66 Adam Bede, 2 Parts, each 15 

69 A mos Barton 10 

71 Silas Marner 10 

79 Bomola, 2 Parts, each 15 

149 Janet’s Repentance 10 

151 Felix Holt 20 

174 ^Middlemarch, 2 Parts, each 20 

195 Daniel Deronda, 2 Pai’ts, each 20 

202 Theophrastus Such 10 

205 The Spanish G3T3sy.and other Poems20 

207 The Mill on the Floss, 2 Parts, each. 15 

208 Brother Jacob, etc 10 

874 Essays-, and Leaves from a Note- 

Book 20 


BY M. BETHAM-EDWARDS 


203 Disarmed 15 

663 The Flower of Doom 10 

1005 Next of Kin 20 

BY RALPH WALDO EMERSON 

373 Essays 20 

ENGLISH MEN OF LETTERS. 
EDITED BY JOHN MORLEY 

348 Bnnyan, by J. A. Fronde 10 

407 Burke, by John Morley 10 

334 Burns, by Principal Shairp 10 

347 Byron, by Professor Nichol 10 

413 Chaucer, by Prof. A. W. Ward 10 

424 Covvper, by Goldwin Smith 10 

377 Defoe, by William Minto 10 

383 Gibbon, by J. C. Morrison 10 

225 Goldsmith, by William Black 10 

369 Hume, by Professor Huxley 10 

401 Johnson, by I.eslie Stephen 10 

£80 Locke, by Thomas Fowler 10 

£92 Milton, by Mark Pattison 10 

398 Pope, by Leslie Stephen 10 

364 Scott, by R. H. Hutton 10 

361 Shelley, by J. Symonds 10 

404 Southey, by Professor Dowden 10 

431 Spenser, by the Dean of St. Paul’s, . 10 
£44 Thackeray, by Anthony Trollope, . . 10 
410 Wordsworth, by F. Myers 10 

BY B. L. FARJEON 

243 Gautran ; or, House of White Shad- 
ows 20 

654 Love’s Harvest 20 

856 Golden Bells 10 

874 Nine of Hearts 20 

BY KARpaET FARLEY 

473 Christmas Stoi’ics 20 

BY F. W. FARRAR, D.D. 

19 Seekers after God 20 

50 Early Days of Christianit}^ 2 Parts, 

each 20 

BY GEORGE MANNVILLE FENN 

1004 This Man’s Wife 20 

BY OCTAVE FEUILLET 

41 A Marriage in High Life 20 

987 Romance of a Poor Young Man. ... 10 

BY FRIEDRICH, BARON DE LA 
MOTTE FOUQUE 

711 Undine 10 

BY MRS. FORRESTER 

760 Fair Women 20 

818 Once Again 20 

843 My Lord and My Lady 20 

844 Dolores 20 

850 My Hero 20 

859 Viva 20 

860 Omnia Vanitas 10 

861 D ana Carew 20 

862 From Olympus to Hades 2'J 

863 Rhona 20 

864 Roy and Viola 20 

865 June 20 

866 Mignon 20 

SG7 A Young Man’s Fancy 20 


LOVELL S LIBRARY 


BY THOMAS FOWLER 

3S0 Lif G of Locke 10 

BY FRANCESCA 

177 The Story of Ida 10 

BY R. E. FEANCILLON 

810 A Real Queen 20 

856 Golden Bells 10 

BY ALBERT FRANKLYN 

122 Ameline de Bourg 15 

BY L. VIRGINIA FRENCH 

485 My Roses 20 

BY J. A, FR9IJDS 

848 Life of Banyan 10 

BY EMILE GABORIAU 

114 Monsieur Lecoq, 2 Parts, each 20 

116 The Lerouge Case 20 

120 Other People's Money 20 

129 In Peril of His Life 20 

138 The Gilded Clique 20 

155 Mystery of Orcival .20 

161 Promise of Marriage 10 

258 Pile No. 113 ...20 

BY HENRY GEORGE 

62 Progress and Poverty 20 

890 Land Question 10 

S93 Social Problems 20 

796 Property in Land 15 

BY CHARLES GIBBON 

57 The Golden Shaft 20 

BY J. W. VON GOETHE 

S42 Goethe's Faust 20 

843 Goethe’s Poem .s 20 

BY NIKOLAI V. GOGOL 

1016 Taras Bulla 20 

BY OLIVER GOLDSMITH 

61 Vicar of Wakefield 10 

862 Plays and Poems 20 

BY MRS. GORE 

89 The Dean’s Daughter .20 

BY JAMES GRANT 

49 The Secret Despatch 20 

BY HENRI GREVILLE. 

ICOl Frankley 20 

BY CECIL GRIFFITH 

732 Victory Deane 20 

BY ARTHUR GRIFFITHS 

709 No. 9;) 10 

THE BROTHERS GRIMM 

221 Fairy Tales, Illustrated 20 

BY LIEUT, J. W. GUNNISON 

440 History of the Mormons 15 

BY ERNST HAECKEL 

97 India and Ceylon 20 

BY MARION HARLAND 


107 Housekeeping and Homemaking.. . .15 


BY F. W. HACKLANDER 

606 Forbidden Fruit 30 

BY H. RIDER HAGGARD 

813 King Solomon’s Mines 20 

848 She 20 

876 The Witch’s Head 20 

900 Jess .20 

941 Dawn 20 

1020 Allan Quatermain 20 

BY A. EGMONT HAKE 

371 The Story of Chinese Gordon 20 

BY LUDOVIC HALEVY 

15 L’ Abbe Constantin 20 

BY THOMAS HARDY 

43 Two on a Tower 20 

157 Romantic Adventures of a Milk- 
maid 10 

749 The Mayor of Casterbridge 20 

956 The Woodlanders 20 

964 Far from the Madding Crowd 20 

BY JOHN HARRISON AND M. 
COMPTON 

414 Over the Summer Sea 20 

BY J. B. HARWOOD 

269 One False, both Fair 20 

BY JOSEPH HATTON 

7 Clytie 20 

137 Cruel London 20 

BY NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE 

370 Twice Told Tales 20 

376 Grandfather’s Chair 20 

BY MARY CECIL HAY 

466 Under the Will 10 

566 The Arundel Motto 20 

590 Old Myddleton’s Money 20 

787 A Wicked Girl 10 

971 Nora’s Love Test 20 

972 The Squire’s Legacy 20 

973 Dorothy’s Venture 20 

974 My First Offer 10 

975 Back to the Old Home 10 

976 For Her Dear Sake 20 

977 Hidden Perils 20 

978 Victor and Vanquished 20 

BY MR3. FELICIA HEMANS 

583 Poems SO 

BY DAVID J. HILL, LL.D. 

533 Principles and Fallacies of Social- 
ism 15 

BY M. L. HOLBROOK, M.D. 

856 Hygiene of the Brain 25 

BY MRS. M. A. HOLMES 

709 Woman against Woman 20 

743 A Woman’s Vengeance 20 

BY PAXTON HOOD 

73 Life of Cromwell 15 

BY THOMAS HOOD 

511 Poems 30 


LOVELL’S LIBRARY 


BY HORRY AND WEEMS 

88 Life of Marion 20 

BY EGBERT HOUDIN 

14 The Tricks of the Greeks 20 

BY ADAH M. HOWARD 

0*0 Against Her Will 20 

'.,03 The Child Wife 10 

BY EDWARD HOWLAND 

1742 Social Solutions, Part I 10 

747 “ “ Part II 10 

758 “ “ Partin 10 

,702 “ “ Part IV 10 

705 “ “ Party 10 

*<74 “ “ Part VI 10 

778 “ “ Part VII 10 

782 “ “ Part VIII 10 

786 “ Part IX 10 

788 “ PartX 10 

791 “ Part XI 10 

795 “ “ Part XII 10 

BY MARIE HOWLAND 

604 Papa’s Own Girl SO 

BY JOHN W. HOYT, LL.D. 

535 Studies in Civil Service 15 

BY THOMAS HUGHES 

Cl Tom Brown’s School Days 20= 

186 '^om Brown at Oxford, 2 Parts,each. 15 

BY PROF. HUXLEY 

sea Life of Hume 10 

BY STANLEY HUNTLEY 

jcJO The Spoopendyko Papers 20 

BY VICTOR HUGO 

784 Les Miserables, Part 1 20 

784 “ “ Part II 20 

784 “ “ Part III 20 

' BY R. H. HUTTON 

SC4 Life of Scott 20 

BY WASHINGTON IRVING 

147 The Sketch Book 20 

198 Tales of a Traveller 20 

199 Life and Voyages of Columbus, 

Part L. 20 

Life and Voyages of Columbus, 

Part II 20 

224 Abbotsford and Newstead Abbey. . .10 


2-36 Knickerbocker History of New York. 20 


249 The Crayon Papers.. 20 

268 The Alhambra 15 

272 Conquest of Granada 20 

279 Conquest of Spain 10 

281 Bracebridge Hall 20 

290 Salmagundi 20 

299 Astoria. 20 

801 Spanish Voyages 20 

805 A Tour on the Prairies 10 

308 Life of Mahomet, 2 Parts, each 15 

810 Oliver Goldsmith 20 

311 Captain Bonneville 20 

814 Moorish Chronicles 10 

821 Wolf erf s Boost and MisceUanies .... 10 ! 


BY HARRIET JAY 

17 The Dark Colleen .2§ 

BY SAMUEL JOHNSON 

44 Rasselas , .19 

BY MAURICE JOKAI 

754 A Modern Midas 20 

BY JOHN KEATS 

531 Poems .. 26 

BY EDWARD KELLOGG 

111 Labor and Capital 20 

BY GRACE KENNEDY 

106 Dunallau, 2 Parts, each 15 

BY JOHN ?. KENNEDY 

67 Horse- Shoe Robinson, 2 Parte, each .15 

BY CHARLES KINGSLEY 

89 The Hermits 20 

64 Hypatia, 2 Parts, each 15 

BY HENRY KINGSLEY 

726 Austin Eliot 20 

728 The Hillyars and Burtons ^ 

731 Leighton Conrt 20 

736 Geoffrey Hamlyn 30 

BY W. H. G. KINGSTON 

2.54 Peter the Whaler 20 

822 Mark SeaWorth 20 

824 Round Lhe World 20 

335 The Young Foresters 20 

.337 Saltwater 20 

338 The Midshipman 20 

BY F. KIRBY 

454 The Golden Dog 40 

BY A. LA POINTS 

445 The R,ival Doctors ..20 

BY MISS MARGARET LEE 

25 Divorce 20 

600 A Brighton Night ^ 

725 Dr. Wilmer’s LOve 25 

741 Lorimer and Wife 20 

BY VERNON LEE 

797 A Phantom Lover 10 

798 Prince of the Hundred Soups ISf 

BY JULES LERMINA 

469 The Chase ,20 

BY CHARLES LEVER 

327 Harry Lorrequer 20 

789 Charles O’Malley, 2 Parts, each 20 

794 Tom Burke of Ours, 2 Parts, each. .20 

BY H. W. LONGFELLOW 

1 Hyperion 20 

2 Outre-Mer 20 

482 Poems 20 

BY SAMUEL LOVER 

163 The Happy Man 10 

719 Rory O’More 28 

849 Handy Andy 2C 


7 


LOVELL’S LIBRARY 


BY COMMANDER LOVETT-CAM- 
ERON. 

617 The Cruise of the Black Prince. . ..20 

BY MRS. H. LOVETT-CAMERON 


927 Pure Gold 20 

BY HENRY W. LUCY 

96 Gideon Fleyce 20 

BY HENRY C. LUKENS 

131 Jets and Flashes 20 

BY EDNA LYALL 

9G2 Kuights-Errant 20 

BY E. LYNN LYNTON 

275 lone Stewai't 20 

BY LORD LYTTON 

11 The Coming Race 10 

12 Leila 10 

31 Ernest Maltravers 20 

32 The Haunted House 10 

45 Alice: A Sequel to Ernest Maltra- 
vers 20 

55 A Strange Story 20 

69 Last Days of Pompeii 20 

81 Zanoni 20 

84 Night and Morning, 2 Parts, each.. 15 

117 Paul Clifford 20 

121 Lady of Lyons 10 

128 Money 10 

152 Richelieu, 10 

160 Rienzi, 2 Parts, each 15 

176 Pelham 20 

204 Eugene Aram 20 

222 The Disowned 20 

240 Kenelm Chillingly ,20 

245 What Will He Do with It ? 2 Parts, 

each 20 

247 Devereux 20 

250 The C-axtons, 2 Parts, each 15 

253 Lucretia 20 

255 Last of the Barons, 2 Parts, each ... 15 

259 The Parisians, 2 Parts, each 20 

271 My Novel, 3 Parts, each 20 

276 Harold, 2 Parts, each 15 

289 Godolphin 20 

294 Pilgrims of the Rhine 15 

317 Pausanias 15 

BY LORD MACAULAY 

333 Lays of Ancient Rome 20 

BY KATHERINE S- MACQUOID 

898 Joan Wentworth 20 

BY E. MARLITT 

771 The Old Mam’selle’s Secret 20 

1053 Gold Elsie 20 

BY CAPTAIN MARRYAT 

212 The Privateersman 20 

BY HARRIET MARTINEAU 

3.53 Tales of the French Revolution 15 

354 Loom and Lugger 20 

357 Berkeley the Banker 20 

358 Homes Abroaa ... 15 

363 Fur Each and For All 15 

372 Hill and Valley 15 

379 The Charmed Sea 15 

388 Life in the Wilds 15 

395 Sowers not Reapers 15 

400 Glen of the Echoes. 15 


BY FLORENCE MARRYAT. 


903 The Master Passion 2t7 

904 A Lucky Disappointment 10 

905 Her Lord and Master 20 

906 My Own Child 20 

907 No Intentioiy? 20 

908 Written in Fire 20 

909 A Little Stepson 10 

910 With Cupid’s Eyes 20 

931 Why Not ? 20 

937 My Sister the Actress 20 

9.38 Captain Norton’s Diary 10 

939 Girls of Feversham .... 20 

940 The Root of all Evil 20 

9 12 Facing the Footlights 20 

943 Petronel 20 

944 A Star and a Heart 10 

945 Ange 20 

946 A Harvest of Wild Oats 20 

947 The Poison of A'^ps 10 

948 Fair-Haired Alda 20 

949 The Heir Presumptive. 20 

950 Under the Lilies and Roses 20 

951 Heart of Jane Warner 20 

9.52 Love’s Conflict, Parti 20 

952 Love’s Conflict, Part II 20 

953 Phyllida 20 

954 Out of His Reckoning 10 

979 Her World against a Lie 20 

990 Open Sesame 20 

991 Mad Dumaresq 20 

999 Fighting the Mr 20 

BY HELEN MATHERS 

165 Eyre’s Acquittal 10 

1046 Cornin’ Thro’ the Rye 20 

1047 Sam’s Sweetheart 20 

1048 Story of a Sin 20 

1049 Cherry Ripe 20 

1050 My Lady Green Sleeves 20 

BY A. MATHEY 

46 DukeofKandos 20 

60 The Two Duchesses 20 

BY W. S. MAYO 

76 The Berber ■ 20 

BY j. H. McCarthy 

115 An Outline of Irish History 10 

BY JUSTIN McCarthy, m.p. 

278 Maid of Athens 20 

BY T. L. MEADE 

328 How It All Came Round 20 

BY OWEN MEREDITH 

331 Lucile 2S 

BY JOHN MILTON 

389 Paradise Lost 20 

BY WILLIAM MINTO 

377 Life of Defoe 10 

BY MRS. MOLESWORTH 

1008 Marrying and Giving in Marriage.. 10 

BY THOMAS MOORE 

416 LallaRookh 20 

487 Poems 40 

BY J. C. MORRISON 

383 Life of Gibbon lO 


tt 


LOVELL’S LIBRARY. 


BY JOHN MOBLEY 

407 Life of Burke 10 

BY EDWARD H. MOTT 

139 Pike County Folks 20 

BY ALAN MUIR 

812 Golden Girls 20 

BY LOUISA MUHLBACH 

1000 Frederick the Great and his Court. .30 

1014 The Daughter of an Empress 30 

1054 Goethe and Schiller 30 

BY MAX MULLER 

130 India : What Can It Teach Us ? .... 20 

BY DAVID CHRISTIE MURRAY 

197 By the Gate of the Sea 15 

758 Cynic Fortune 10 

BY F. MYERS 

410 Life of Wordsworth 10 

BY MISS MULOCK 

33 John Halifax 20 

435 Miss Tommy 15 

751 King Arthur 20 

BY FLORENCE NEELY 

BQ4 Hand-Book for the Kitchen 20 

BY REV. R. H. NEWTON 

83 Bight and Wrong U ses of the Bible . . 20 

BY JOHN NICHOL 

847 Life of Byron 10 

BY JAMES R. NICHOLS, M.D. 

875 Science at Home 20 

BY W. E. NORRIS 

108 No New Thing 20 

592 That Terrible Man 10 

779 My Friend Jim lO 

BY CHRISTOPHER NORTH 

439 Noctes Ambrosianm 30 

BY LAURENCE OLIPHANT 

196 Altiora Peto 20 

BY MRS. OLIPHANT 

124 The Ladies Lindores 20 

179 The Little Pilgrim 10 

175. Sir Tom 20 

o26 The Wizard’s Son 25 

368 Old Lady Mary 10 

602 Oliver’s Bride 10 

717 A Country Gentleman 20 

831 T he Son his Father 20 

920 John • a Love Story 20 

025 A Poor Gentleman 20 

994 Lucy Crcfton 10 

BY OUIDA 

112 Wanda, 2 Parts, each 15 

127 Under Two Flags, 2 Parts, each. . . . 20 

387 Princess N apraxine 25 

675 A Rainy June T 10 

763- Moths .‘ 20 

790 Othmar 20 

805 A House Party 10 

852 Friendship 20 

853 In Maremma 20 

854 Signs 20 

B55 Pascarel 20 


BY MAX O’RELL 

336 John Bull and His Island 24 

459 John Bull and His Daughters 20 

BY ALBERT K. OWEN 

655 Integral Co-operation 30 

BY LOUISA PARR 

42 Robin 20 

BY MARK PATTISON 

392 Life of Milton 10 

BY JAMES PAYN 

187 Thicker than Water 20 

£30 The Canon’s Ward 20 

659 Luck of the Darrells 20 

BY HENRY PETERSON 

1015 Pemberton 30 

BY EDGAR ALLAN POE 

403 Poems 20 

426 Narrative of A. Gordon Pym 15 

432 Gold Bug, and Other Tales 15 

438 The Assignatiop, and Other Tales . . 15 

447 The Murders in the Rue Morgue 15 

BY WILLIAM POLE, F.R.S. 

406 The Theory of the Modern Scien- 
tific Game of Whist 15 

BY ALEXANDER POPE 

391 Jlomer’s Odyssey 20 

396 Homer’s Iliad 30 

457 Poems 30 

BY JANE PORTER 

189 Scottish Chiefs, Part 1 20 

Scottish Chiefs, Part II 20 

382 Thaddeus of Warsaw 25 

BY C. F. POST AND FRED. C. 
LEUBUCHER 

838 The George-Hewitt Campaign. 

BY ADELAIDE A. PROCTER 

339 Poems 20 

BY AGNES RAY 

1010 Mrs. Gregory 20 

BY CHARLES READE 

28 Singleheart and Doubleface 10 

415 A Perilous Secret 20 

759 Foul Play...’ 20 

773 Put Yourself in his Place 20 

913 Griffith Gaunt 20 

914 A Terrible Temptation 20 

915 Very Hard Cash 20 

916 It is Never Too Late to Mend 20 

917 The Knightsbridge Mystery 10 

918 A Woman Hater 20 

919 Readiana 1'^^ 

BY REBECCA FERGUS REDD 

16 Freckles 20 

408 The Brierfield Tragedy 20 

BY “ RITA ” 

556 Dame Durden 20 

599 Like Dian’s Kiss 2« 

BY SIR H. ROBERTS 

101 Man-y Holbrooke = 2# 


9 


LOVELL’S LIBRARY, 


BY A. M. F. ROBINSON 

134 Arden 15 

BY REGINA MARIA ROCHE 

411 Children of the Abbey 30 

BY BLANCHE ROOSEVELT 

837 Marked “ In Haste ” 20 

BY DANTE ROSSETTI 

829 Poems 20 

BY MRS. ROWSON 

159 Charlotte Temple 10 

BY JOHN RUSKIN 

497 Sesame and Lilies 10 

505 Crown of Wild Olives 10 

610 Ethics of the Dust 10 

616 Queen of the Air ... 10 

621 Seven Lamps of Architecture 20 

637 Lectures on Architecture and Paint- 
ing 15 

54‘ atones of Venico. 3 Vols., each 25 

566 Modern Painters, Vol. 1 20 

572 “ Vol. II 20 

>77 “ “ Vol. Ill 20 

389 “ “ Vol. IV 25 

608 “ “ Vol.V 25 

598 King of the Golden Eiver 10 

623 Unto this Last 10 

627 Munera Pulveris 15 

637 “ A Joy Forever ” 15 

639 The Pleasures of England 10 

612 The Two Paths 20 

644 Lectures on A.rt 15 

677 Aratra Pentelici ,15 

650 Time and Tide 15 

665 Mornings in Florence 15 

668 St. Mark’s Rest 15 

670 Deucalion 15 

673 Art of England 15 

676 Eagle’s Nest 15 

679 “ Our Fathers Have Told Us” 15 

682 Proserpina 15 

685 Val d’Arno 15 

638 Love’s Meinie 15 

707 Fors Clavigera, Part I. 80 

708 “ Part It 30 

713 “ “ Part III 30 

714 “ “ Part IV 30 

BY W. CLARK RUSSELL 

123 A Sea Queen 20 

399 J ohn Holdsworth 20 

833 A Voyage to the Cape 20 

834 J ack’ s Courtshi p 20 

835 A Sailor’s Sweetheart 20 

836 On the Fo’k’sle Head 20 

997 The Golden Hope 20 

BY DORA RUSSELL 

816 The Broken Seal 20 

BY GEORGE SAND 

136 The Tower of Percemont 20 

965 The Lilies of Florence 20 

BY MRS. W. A. SAVILLE 

27 Social Etiquette 15 

BY J. X. B. SAINTINE 

110 Picciola 10 


BY J. C. F. VON SCHILLER 

341 Schiller’s Poems 25 

BY MICHAEL SCOTT 

171 Tom Cringle’s Log 20 

BY SIR WALTER SCOTT 

145 Ivanhoe, 2 Parts, each 15 

359 Lady of the Lake, with Notes 20 

489 Bride of Lammermoor 20 

490 Black Dwarf 10 

492 Castle Dangerous 15 

493 Legend of Montrose 15 

495 The Surgeon’s DaugUter 10 

499 Heart of Mid-Lothian 30 

502 Waverley 20 

504 Fortunes of Nigel 20 

509 Peveril of the Peak 30 

515 The Pirate 20 

536 Poetical Works 40 

544 Redgauntlet 25 

551 Woodstock 20 

557 Count Robert of Paris 20 

D69 The Abbot 20 

575 Quentin Durvvard 20 

581 The Talisman 20 

586 St. Ronan s Well 20 

595 Anne of Geierstein 20 

605 Aunt Margaret’s Mirror 10 

607 Chronicles of the Canongate 15 

609 The Monastery 20 

6.20 Guy Mannering 20 

625 Kenilworth 25 

629 The Antiquary 20 

632 Rob Roy 20 

635 The Betrothed 20 

638 Fair Maid of Perth ' 20 

641 Old Mortality 20 

BY EUGENE SCRIBE 

22 Fleurette 20 

BY PRINCIPAL SHAIRP 

334 Life of Burns 10 

BY MARY W. SHELLEY 

5 Frankenstein 10 

BY PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY 

549 Complete Poetical Works SO 

BY S. SHELLEY 

191 The Nautz Family 20 

BY WILLIAM GILMORE SIMMS 

640 The Partisan SO 

648 Mellichampe 30 

653 The Yemassee SO 

657 Katherine Walton 30 

662 Southward Ho ! 30 

671 The Scout SO 

674 The Wigwam and Cabin.. 30 

677 Vasconselos 30 

680 Confession 30 

684 W oodcraf t 30 

687 Richard Hurdis ... .30 

690 Guy Rivers SO 

693 Border Beagles 30 

697 The Foray ers 30 

702 Chari emont SO 

703 Eutaw ,30 

705 Beauchampe 30 


10 


Lovell’s libfiart. 


SY J. H. SHOBTHOirSE 

832 Sir Percival 10 

BY J. P. SIMPSON 

S25 Haunted Hearts 10 

BY EDITH SIMCOX 

513 Men, Women, and Lovers 20 

BY A. P. SINNETT 

924 Karma 20 

BY HAWLEY SMAHT 

780 Bad to Beat 10 

BY SAMUEL SMILES 

425 Self-Help 25 

BY A. SMITH 

694 A Summer in Skye 20 

BY GOLDWIN SMITH 

110 False Hopes 15 

424 Life of Cowpcr 10 

BY J. GREGORY SMITH 

65 Selma 15 

BY S. M. SMUCKER 


248 Life of Webster, 2 Parts, each 15 


BY E. SPIELHAGEN 

449 Quisiana 20 

BY LESLIE STEPHEN 

396 Life of Pope 10 

401 Life of Johnson 10 

BY STARKWEATHER AND 
WILSON 

461 Socialism 10 

BY STEPNIAK 

173 Underground Kussia 20 

BY ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON 

767 Kidnapped 20 

768 Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. 

Hyde 10 

769 Prince Otto 10 

770 The Dynamiter 20 

793 New Arabian Nights 20 

819 Tre ’.sure Island 20 

921 The Merry Men 20 

BY HESBA STRETTON 

729 In Prison and Out 20 


BY EUGENE SUE 

772 Mysteries of Paris, 2 Parts, each . . .20 


776 The Wandering Jew, 2 Parts, each .20 

BY DEAN SWIFT 

68 Gulliver’s Travels 2C 

BY CHAS. ALGERNON SWIN- 
BURNE. 

412 Poems 20 

BY J. A. SYMONDS 

361 Life of Shelley 10 

BY H. A. TAINE 

442 Taine’s English Literature 40 


I BY NIKOLAI G. TCHERNUISH- 


COSKY 

j 1017 A Vital Question 3P 

BY LORD TENNYSON 

446 Poems 40 

BY W. M. THACKERAY 

141 Henry Esmond 20 

143 Denis Duval 20 

148 Catherine 10 

156 Level, the VTdower 10 

164 Barry Lyndon 20 

172 Vanity Fair 30 

1 93 History of Pendennis, 2 Parts, each. .20 

211 The Newcoraes, 2 Parts, each 20 

220 Book of Snobs 10 

229 Paris Sketches 20 

235 Adventures of Philip, 2 Parts, each . . 15 

238 The Virginians, 2 Parts, each 20 

252 Critical Keviews, etc 10 

256 Eastern Sketches 10 

262 Fatal Boots, etc 10 

264 The Four Georges 10 

280 Fitzboodle Papers, etc 10 

283 Roundabout Papers 20 

285 A Legend of the Rhine, etc 10 

286 Cox’s Diary, etc 10 

292 Irish Sketches, etc 20 

296 Men’s Wives 10 

300 Novels by Eminent Hands 10 

303 Character Sketches, etc 10 

304 Christmas Books 20 

306 Ballads 15 

307 Yellowplush Papers 10 

309 Sketches and Travels in London 10 

313 English Humorists 15 

316 Great Hoggarty Diamond 10 

320 The Rose and the Ring 10 

BY JUDGE D. P. THOMPSON 

21 The Green Mountain Boys 20 

BY THEODORE TILTON 

94 Tempest Tossed, Part I. 20 

94 Tempest Tossed, Part II 29 

BY ANTHONY TROLLOPE 

133 Mr. Scarborough’s Family, 2 Parte, 

each 15 

251 Autobiography of Anthony Trollope.20 

344 Life of Thackeray 10 

367 An Old Man’s Love 15 

BY F. A. TUPPER 

895 Moonshine 20 

BY J. VAN LENNEP 

468 The Count of Talavera 20 

BY VIRGIL 

540 Poems 25 

BY JULES VERNE 

34 800 Leagues on the Amazon 10 

35 The Cryptogram 10 


154 Tour of the World in Eighty Days. . 20 

166 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea 20 

185 The Mysterious Island, 3 Parts, each. 15 

BY QUEEN VICTORIA 

355 More Leaves from a Life in the High- 
lands 15 


LOVELL’S LIBRARY. 


BY L. B. WALFORD. 

1055 Mr. Smith 20 

1050 The History of a Week 10 

1057 The Baby’s Grandmother 20 

1058 Troublesome Daughter 20 

1050 Cousins 20 

BY GEORGE WALKER 

13 The Three Spaniards 20 

BY PROF. A. W. WARD 

413 Life of Chaucer 10 

BY F. WARDEN 

757 Doris’ Fortune 10 

980 At the World’s Mercy 10 

981 The House on the Marsh .20 

982 Deldee 20 

983 A Prince of Darkness 20 

BY SAMUEL WARREN 

936 Ten Thousand a Year, Part 1 20 

“ “ “ Paitll 20 

“ “ “ Part III . . . . 20 

BY DESHLER WELCH 

427 Life of Grover Cleveland 20 

BY E. WERNER 

614 At a High Price 20 

734 Vineta 20 

BY MRS. HENRY WOOD 

54 East Lynne 20 

902 The Mystery 20 

BY MRS. WHITCHER 

194 Widow Bedott Papers 20 

BY J. G. WHITTIER 

450 Poems 20 

BY VIOLET WHYTE 

963 Her Johnnie. 20 

BY W. M. WILLIAMS 

80 SciencO in Short Chapters 20 


BY N. P. WILLIS 

362 Poems 2fl 

BY C. F. WINGATE 

830 Twilight Club Tracts 20 

BY EDMUND YATES 

723 Running the Gauntlet 20 

724 Broken to Harness 20 

BY CHARLOTTE M. YONGE 

858 A Modern Telemachus 20 

899 Love and Life 20 

BY ERNEST A. YOUNG 

666 Barbara’s Rival 20 

691 A Woman’s Honor 20 

MISCELLANEOUS 

26 Life of Washington 20 

37 Paul and Virginia 10 

47 Baron Munchausen 10 

63 The Vendetta, by Balzac 20 

66 Margaret and her Bridesmaids 20 

72 Queen of the County 20 

98 The Gypsy Queen 20 

118 A New Lease of Life .20 

169 Beyond the Sunrise 20 

181 Whist, or Bumblepuppy? 10 

360 Modern Christianity a Civilized 

Heathenism 15 

266 Plutarch’s Lives, 5 Parts, each 20 

291 Famous Funny Fellows 20 

323 Life of Paul Jones 20 

332 Every-Day Cook-Book 20 

340 Clayton’s Rangers 20 

385 Swiss Family Robinson 20 

386 Childhood of the World 10 

397 Arabian Nights’ Entertainments 25 

402 How He Reached the White House. 25 

433 Wrecks in the Sea of Life 20 

434 Typhaines Abbey 25 

483 The Child Hunters 15 

857 A Wilful Young Woman 20 

966 The Story of Our Mess 20 

967 The Three Bummers 20 

1019 Soeur Louise 20 


Any number in the above list can generally be obtained from all booksellers and 
newsdealers, or when it cannot be so obtained, will be sent, free hy mail, on receipt of 
price by the publishers. 

JOHN W. LOVELL COMPANY, 

14 AND 16 Vesbt St., New Yoek. 

la 


.V. O. Box 1993, 


LOVELL’S LIBRARY 


1010 Mrs. Grej^ory, by Agnes Ray 20 

1011 Pirates of the Prairies, by Aimard.lO 

1012 The Sqiuire’s Darling, by Clay... 10 

1013 Th3 Mystery of Coide Fell, by Clay.20 

1014 Tae Daughter of an Empress, by 

Louisa Mdhlbach 30 

1015 Pembertoj, by Henry Peterson... 30 

1016 Taras Bulba, by Nikolai V. Gogol.. 20 

1017 A Vital (Question, by Nikolai G. 

Tuhernuishevsky 30 

1018 Th3 Condemned Door, by F. clu 

Boisgobey 20 

1019 Soeur Louise (Louise de Brunevar)20 

1020 Allan Quatermain, by Haggard. ..20 

1021 Tne Trapper’s Daughter, by 

Gustave Aimard 10 

1022 Good-Bye, Sweetheart, by Rhoda 

Broughton 20 

1023 Red as a Rose is She, by Rhoda 

Broughton 20 

1024 Cometh up as a Flower, by Rhoda 

Broughton 20 

1025 Not Wisely, But Too Well, by 

Uiioda Broughton 20 

1026 Naney, by Rhoda Broughton 20 

1027 Joan, by Rhoda Broughton 20 

102S A Near Relation, by Coleridge 20 

1029 Bren la Yorke, by Mary Cecil Hay. 10 

1030 On Her Wedding Morn, by Clay.. 10 

1031 The Shattered Idol, by B. M. Clay. 10 

1032 The Tiger Slayer, by G. Aimard.. 10 

1033 Letty Leigh, by Bertha M. Clay... 10 
1031 Mary Anerley,by R. D. Blackmore.20 

1035 Alice Lorraine, by Blackmore 20 

1036 Christo well, by R. D. Blackmore.. 20 

1037 Clara Vaughan, by Blackmore.. ..20 
1033 Crippe, the Carrier, by Blackmore.20 

1039 Remarkable His toryof Sir Thomas 

Upmore, by R. D. Blackmore. . .20 

1040 Erema; or. My Father’s Sin, by 

R. D. Blackmore 20 

1041 The Mystery of the Holly Tree, by 

Bertha M. Clay 10 

1042 The EaiTs Error, by B. M. Clay.. 10 

1043 Arnold's Promise, by B. M. Clay.. 10 

1044 Forging the Fetters, by Alexander. 10 

1045 The Trappers of Arkansas, by 

Gustave Aimard 10 

1046 Cornin’ thro’ the Rye, by Mathers. 20 

1047 Sam’s Sweetheart, by Mathers.. ..20 

1048 Story of a Sin, by H. B. Mathers.. 20 

1049 Cherry Ripe, by H. B Mathers... 20 

1050 My Lady Green Sleeves, Mathers.. 20 

1051 An Unnatural Bondage, by Clay. . 10 

1052 BorderRifl.es, by Gustave Aimard.lO 

1053 Gold Elsie, by E. Marlitt 20 

1054 Goethe and Schiller, by Miihlbach.SO 

1055 Mr. Smith, by L. B. Walford 20 

1058 The History of a Week,byWalford.lO 


ISSUES. 


1057 The Baby’s Grandmother, by L. B. 

Walford 20 

1058 Troublesome Daughters, by L. B. 

Walford 20 

1059 Cousins, by L. B. Walford 20 


1060 The Bag of Diamonds, by Fenn. 20 
lOol Red Spider, by S. Earing-Gould. 20 

1062 Dick's Wandering, by J. Sturgis. .20 

1063 The Freebooters, by G. Aimard... 10 

1064 The Duke's Secret, by B. M. Clay.20 

1065 A Modern Circe, by The Duchess 20 

1066 An American Jcurney,by Aveling.SO 

1067 Geoffrey Moncton, by S. Mccdie..30 

1068 Flora Lyndsay, by S. Moodie 20 

1069 The White Scalper, by G. Aimard.lO 

1070 Confessions of an English Opium 

Eater, by Thomas de Q,uincey...20 

1071 Guide of the Desert, by Aimard.. 10 

1072 “ The Duchess, ” by The Duchess 20 

1073 Scheherazade, by F. Warden 20 

1074 Roughing it in the Lush, by Su- 

sanna Moodie 20 

1075 The Insurgent vChief, by Aimard.. 10 

1076 Life in the Bacl^voods, byMoodie.20 

1077 Jim the Parson, by E. B.Benjamin 20 

1078 Tax the Area, by Kemper Bocock. 20 

1079 The Flying Horseman, by Aimard.lO 

1080 The Blue Veil; or. The Crime of 

the Tower, by F. du Boisgobey. .20 

1081 Last of the Aucas, by Aimard 10 

1082 Strange Adventures of Lucy 

Smith, by F. C. Philips 20 

1083 As in a Looking Glass, by Philips.20 

1084 The Dean and his Daughter, by 

F. C. Philips 20 

1085 Life in the Clearings, by Moodie. .20 

1086 Missouri Outlaws, by Aimard 10 

1087 The Frozen Pirate, by Russell. . .20 

1088 Wilhelm Meister’s A.pprentlceship, 

Pt. I, by Goethe, translated by 

Carlyle ... 20 

Wilhelm Meister’s Apprenticeship, 
Pt. H, by Goethe, translated by 
Carlyle • 20 

1089 Prairie Flower, by Aimard 10 

1090 Wilhelm Meister’s Travels, by 

Goethe, translated by Carlyle 20 

1091 Queen Hortense, by L. Muhlbach.30 

1092 Milton’s Poems .85 

1093 Lady Grace, by Mrs. Henry Wood. 20 

1094 The New Republic, by Schellhous.30 

1095 From the Other Side, by Notley . . .20 

1096 The Co-operative Commonwealth, 

by Laurence Gronlund 30 

1097 Jack and Three Jills, by Philips..., 20 

1098 Indian Scout, by Aimard 10 

1099 True Solution of the Labor Ques- 

! tion, by Chas. H. W. Cook 10 

i 1100 A Tale of Three Lions, by Haggard. 10 


Dealers can always obtain complete Catalogues with imprint, for free distribu- 
tion, on application to the Publishers, 

JOHN W. LOVELL COMPANY, 


1 4 & 16 Vesey Street, New York 


o 


THE 


Last of the Aucas 


BYj/' 

GUSTAVE AIMARD 

AUTHOR OP “ QUEEN OF THE SAVANNAH,” ETC., ETC. 



EDITED AND REVISED BY PERCY B. ST. JOHN 



NEW YORK 


JOHN W. LOVELL COMPANY 

14 AND 16 Vesey Street 







TZ5 

, A 


. j. i ' 


TROW’3 

PRINTING AND BOOKBINDING COMPANY, 
NEW YORK. 


PREFACE 


Isr the present volume Gustave Aimard breaks entirely virgin 
soil. He carries the reader trom the flower-enamelled sa- 
vannahs of Mexico and the Far West to the desolate pampas of 
South America. No previous writer has ever selected this 
country for the scene of a romance. Gustave Aimard 
therefore, is entitled to the credit of having opened up ne\^ 
ground, upon which occur a variety of incidents far more 
startling than any contained in previous volumes. Moreover, 
the present work supplies much useful information about the ^ 
natural history and resources of a comparatively unknown 
country, and thus affords an additional charm which justifies 
the prediction that The Last of the Aucas will meet with the 
same cordial reception that has encouraged Gustave Aimard’s 
previous efforts at describing the novel scenes of daring, peril, 
and adventure through which he has passed. 

Percy B. St. John. 


London / 


CONTENTS 


CHAP. 

I. THE BOMBEROS • r 9 

n« EL CARMEN • • • 

HI. DON TORRIBIO CARVAJAL • , 

IV, THE TREE OF GUALICfll) . « 

V. THE COUNCIL OP THE ULMKNS « 

VI. NOCOBOTHA • • • 

VII. THE COUGARS . • • 

VIII. THE ESTANCIA OF SAN JULIAN * 

IX, DON SYLVIO d’aRENAL • « 

X. THE VIRGIN FOREST , • 

XI. THE CHASE OF THE NANDUS • , 

XII, THE TOLDERIA • , , 

XIII. THE PAMPERO • • « 

XIV. PREPARATIONS FOR A SIEGE « 

XV. A BRAVE RESOLVE . , , 

XVI. THE INVASION 

XVII. THE ATTACK ON POBLACION DEL SUR 
XVIII. THE CAVE OF THE COUGARS . 

XIX. DON TORRIBIO’S HOUSE , , 

XX. THE INDIAN CAMP • , 

XXI. THE TOLDO OF THE GREAT TOQUI . 
XXil, DELILAH . , . • 

XXIII. THE AGONY OF A TOWN , , 

XXIV. THE LAST OF THE AUCA3 » • 


PAOB 

s 

9 

*5 

20 

25 

30 

« 

33 
36 
41 
43 
SO 
SS 
59 
65 
69 
76 
■ 82 

«7 

93 

98 

103 

log 

114 

119 


THE LAST OF THE AUCAS 


CHAPTER I. 

THE BOMBEROS, 

The earliest navigators, whether involuntarily or not, threw over Pata* 
gonia a mysterious veil, which science and frequent relations have not 
yet entirely removed. The celebrated Magellan and his historian, 
Pigafetta, who visited this coast in 1520, were the first to invent those 
giants so 'tall that Europeans scarce reached their girdle. These fables, 
like most fables, were accepted as truths, and in the last century became 
the theme of a very lively dispute among learned men. Hence the 
name of Patagonians (great feet) was given to the inhabitants of this 
country, which extends from the western watershed of the Andes to the 
Atlantic Ocean. 

Patagonia is watered through its entire length by the Rio Colorado in 
the north, and the Rio Negro in the east-south-east. These two rivers, 
through the windings of their course, agreeably break the uniformity of 
an arid, dry, sandy soil, on which prickly shrubs alone grow, or dispense 
life to the uninterrupted vegetation of their banks. They wind round a 
fertile valley overshadowed by willow trees, and trace two deep furrow* 
through the midst of an almost level country. 

The Rio Negro runs through a valley surrounded by precipitous cliffs, 
which the waters still wash at places ; wherever they have retired they 
have left alluvial soil covered with vegetation, and formed numerous 
islets covered with willows, and contrasting with the mournful aspect of 
the naked cliffs. 


6 


The La^t oj ike Autas. 


Monkeys, wild asses, foxes, and red wolves constantly traverse the 
desert in every direction, together with the cougar, or American lion, 
and the imbaracayas — those ferocious and formidable wild-cats. The 
coasts are thronged with amphibious carnivora, such as sea-lions and 
elephant-seals. The guya^ concealed in the marshes, utters its melan- 
choly ciy ; the guacuti, or stag of the pampas, runs lightly over the 
sand ; while the guanaco, or American camel, sits pensively on the 
summit of the cliffs. The majestic condor soars amid the clouds, in the 
company of the disgusting cathartes, Urubus and auras, which, like it, 
hover round the cliffs on the seaboard to dispute the remains of corpses 
with the voracious caracarus. Such are the plains of Patagonia, a 
monotonous solitude, empty, horrible, and desolate ! 

One evening in the month of November, which the Aucas Indians 
call the “ moon of the pruning,” a traveller, mounted on a powerful 
horse, was following at a shai^ trot one of the many paths to be found 
on the banks of all American rivers. This traveller was a man of about 
thirty years of age, clothed in a semi-Indian, semi-European garb pecu- 
liar to the gauchos. A poncho of Indian manufacture hung from his 
shoulders to his horse’s flanks, and only left visible the long Chilian 
polenas that came above his knees. A lasso and bolas hung from either 
side of his saddle, and he carried a rifle in front of him. 

His face, half concealed by the broad brim of his straw hat, had a 
sinister expression ; his features were, so to say, modelled by hatred. 
His long hooked nose, surmounted by two restless eyes, rather close 
together, gave him a distant resemblance to a bird of prey ; his thin lips 
were contracted with an ironical air, and his prominent cheek-bones 
suggested running. The Spaniard could be recognised by his olive tint. 
The effect of this face, surrounded as it was by long tangled black hair 
and a large beard, was to inspire fear and repulsion. His wide shoulders 
and well-knit limbs denoted far from common strength and agility in 
this man, who seemed above the average height. 

On reaching a spot where several tracks crossed each other, the 
stranger stopped to look about him, and then turned to the right and 
struck a trail. Going further and further away from the banks of the 
Rio Colorado, which he had hitherto been following, he entered a plain, 
the soil of which, burned by the sun, and covered with small pebbles or 
gravel, only offered a few stunted shrubs to the eye. The further the 
stranger advanced in this desert, the further solitude extended in its 
gloomy majesty, and the footfall of his horse alone disturbed the silence 
of the desert. 

Presently the traveller saw in the distance horses hobbled in front of a 
wretched toldo. At once a shout was raised, and in less than a minute 
the horses were unfastened ; three men leapt into the saddle, and dashed 
forward at full gallop to reconnoitre this man, who continued his journey 
without even turning his head. 

“ Eh, compadre, whither are you bound ? ” one of them asked. 

Canario, Pepe,” the stranger answered ; “ have you been emptying a 
«kin of aguardiente ? ” 

** Why, tis the voice of Pedrito," 


The Bomber 03 , 


7 


“ And unless some one has stolen my voice, my good fellow, it is If 
the real Pedrito.” 

“ Deuce take me,” said one, “ if I did not fancy you killed by one of 
those dogs of Aucas ; ten minutes ago I was talking about it to 
Lopez.” 

“Yes,” Lopez added in confirmation, “for you have disappeared for 
eight days.” 

“ Eight days — ^yes; but I and my horse are hungry after a two-days’ 
fast.” 

“ That will soon be remedied,” said Pepe, “ for here vve are.” 

The four friends while conversing had ridden on, and at this moment 
dismounted in front of the toldo, which they entered, after hobbling their 
horses and placing food before that of the new-comer. This toldo, as 
they are called in the country, was a cabin thirty feet square, roofed 
with reeds, and formed of stakes driven into the ground and fastened 
together with thongs. In one corner four wooden and leather benches 
served as beds for the dwellers in this house, where it was difficult to 
shelter themselves against the wind and rain. 

Each man sat down on a large stone in front of a fire. Lopez took up 
a piece of guanoco that was roasting, and planted the spit in the ground. 
The four comrades drew their long knives from their polenas and began 
eating. 

These men were bomberos. 

Ever since the foundation of the Spanish colonial fort of Carmen, it 
had been found necessary, in consequence of the vicinity of the Indians, 
to have scouts to watch over their movements. These scouts form a 
species of corps of the bravest men, thoroughly habituated to the priva- 
tions of the pampas. Although their services are voluntary, and their 
profession perilous, bomberos are never wanting, for they are hand- 
somely paid. They often go twenty or five-and-twenty leagues from the 
fort, as extreme outposts, ambushing on spots where the enemy must 
necessarily pass. Day and eight they ride across the plains, watching, 
listening, and hiding. Scattered during the day, they reassemble at sun- 
set, though they rarely venture to light a fire, which would betray their 
presence ; and they never all sleep together. Their bivouac is a flying 
camp, and they live on the produce of the chase. They have long been 
accustomed to this strange and nomadic life, and hence they acquire a 
fineness of perception almost equal to that of the Indians, and their 
practised eyes recognise the slightest trace on the lightly-trodden grass 
or sand. Solitude has developed in them a marvellous sagacity and a 
rare talent for observation. 

The four bomberos collected in the toldo were the most renowned in 
Patagonia. They were supping gaily while warming themselves at a 
good fire, a rare pleasure for men who have a surprise to fear at any 
hour. 

The character of these men is singular ; courageous to a fault, they 
care not for the life of other persons or their own. If one of their com- 
rades die, victim of an Indian or a wild beast, they content themselves 
with saying he has a mala suerta (ill luck) 


8 


The Last of the Aucas, 


These scouts were brothers, and their names were Lopez, Pepe, Juan, 
and Pedrifco. Their home, twice plundered by the Aucas Indians, had 
been utterly destroyed. Their father and mother had succumbed under 
atrocious torture ; two of their sisters had been outraiged and killed, and 
the youngest, Mercedes, a child scarce seven years of age, was carried 
off into slavery, and since then they had received no news of her. 

The four brothers from this moment became bomberos, through hatred 
of the Indians and desire of vengeance, and had only one head and one 
heart. 

“ What news, brother ? ” Pepe asked, when they had finished their 
meal, and Juan had mounted his horse to go the rounds. 

“ In the first place,” the eldest asked, “ what have you been doing 
during the last week ? ” 

“ Nothing,” Lopez answered. 

“ Nonsense.” 

“ On my word it is true. The Aucas and Pehuenches are becoming 
absurdly timid ; if this goes on, we shall have to send them petticoats.” 

“ What next ? ” Pedrito asked. 

“ That is all ; we have seen nothing, heard nothing suspicious.” 

“ Search your memory carefully.” 

“ No one has passed, I tell you,” Pepe remarked, confidently. 

“ No one ? ” 

“Unless you count as somebody the old Pehuenche squaw who crossed 
the plain this evening on a sorry horse, and asked us the road to El 
Carmen.” 

“ That old squaw,” Pedrito said, with a smile, “ knows the road as well 
as I do. Canarios, your innocence amuses me.” 

“ Gur innocence 1 ” Lopez exclaimed, with a frown ; “ we are asses, 
then ? ” 

“ May be so. The old Pehuenche squaw who crossed the plain this 
evening on a sorry horse, and asked you the road to El Carmen,” 
Pedrito said, repeating Pepe’s words, maliciously ; “ do you know who 
she was ? ” 

“ Hang it all 1 a frightful old witch, whose face would terrify the 
fiend.” 

“ Ah, you think so. Well, you are wrong.” 

“ Speak out, and do not play with us like a cat with a mouse.” 

“ My boy, this Pehuenche witch was Nocobotha ! ” 

Nocobotha (the Hurricane) was the principal ulmen of the Aucas. 

“ Malediction 1 ” Pepe at length shouted. 

“ But how do you know it ? ” Lopez asked. 

“ Do you suppose I have been amusing myself for eight days, 
brothew ? The Indians, to whom you want to send petticoats, are pre- 
paring to deal you a furious blow. We must distrust silent waters and 
the calm that conceals a tempest. All the nations of Upper and Lower 
Patagonia, and even Araucania, have leagued together to attempt an 
invasion — massacre the whites, and destroy El Carmen. Two men 
have done it all-r-rNocobotha and Pincheira, the chief of the Arau- 
canos. This evening there will be a grand meeting of the delegates of 


El Carmen. 


9 


the nations, at which the day and hour for the attack will be definitely 
settled.” 

Carai ! ” Pepe exclaimed, “there is not a moment to lose. One of 
us mast go at full gallop to El Carmen to inform the governor of the 
danger.” 

“ No, not yet ; we must not be in such a hurry, but try to discover the 
exact intentions of the chiefs. The chiefs who will be present at the 
meeting are twenty in number.” 

“ Where will they meet ? ” 

“ At the tree of Gualichu.” 

“ Demonio ! it will not be an easy thing to surprise them at such a 
place.” 

“ Hang it, it is impossible,” Lopez said. 

“ Where force fails, try cunning. Here is Juan returned. Weil, have 
you any news ? ” 

“ All is quiet,” he said, as he dismounted. 

“ All the better. In that case we can act,” Pedrito continued. 
“ Listen to me, brothers. I believe that you have confidence in me— 
and so quick to horse ; I wish to be present at this Indian gathering.” 

“ And you are going to take us ” 

“ To the tree of Gualichu.” 

The four bold comrades mounted their horses, and started at a 
gallop. The younger men blindly obeyed Pedrito, who po«sessed a 
recognised superiority over his brothers. 


CHAPTER Ih 

EL CARMEN. 

In 1780 the Spaniards founded in Patagonia a factory on the left bank 
of the Rio Negro, about seven leagues from its mouth, and called Nuestra 
Senora del Carmen, and also Patagonia. 

The Ulmen Negro, chief of the Puelches encamped in the vicinity of 
the Rip Negro, was friendly to the Spaniards, and, in consideration of a 
distribution made to the Indians of a large quantity of clothing and 
other useful articles, sold them the course of that river from its mouth 
up to San Xavier. 

At the period of the foundation of El Carmen the post merely con- 
sisted of a fort, built on the northern bank, at the summit of a scarped 
cliff, which commands the river surrounding country. 


lO 


The Last of the Aucas, 


At the present day the fort is nearly in mins ; the walls are every# 
where decaying, though the dwelling-houses are still in good condition. 

El Carmen is divided into three groups, two on the north, and one on 
the south side of the river. Of the two former, old Carmen is situated 
between the fort and the Rio Negro, on the slope of the cliff, and con- 
sists of some forty houses of varying height and style. Around them 
are scattered wretched huts. 

The other group on the same bank, called Poblacion, is a few hundred 
paces to the east of the fort, and is separated from it by shifting sands. 
Poblacion forms a vast quadrilateral, round which are about one hundred 
houses, mostly new, only one storey high, tile-covered, and serving as a 
residence for farmers, agriculturists, and pulperos, or dealers in spirits 
and grocery. Between the two groups there are several houses. 

The village on the south bank, which is called Poblacion del Sur, is 
composed of twenty houses, standing on a low soil, subject to inunda- 
tions. These houses, which are poorer than those of the north side, 
serve as a shelter for gauchos and estancieros. A few pulperos have 
also opened their stores there. 

The general aspect is sad ; only a few isolated trees grow on the river, 
bank, and the streets are full of a fine sand, scattered by every wind 
that blows. 

On the day when this story begins, at about two in the afternoon, five 
or six gauchos, seated in a pulpero’s shop, were holding . a sharp discus, 
sion while swallowing long draughts of chicha. The scene is laid in 
Poblacion del Sur. 

“ Canario,” said a tall, thin fellow, who had all the appearance of a 
desperate ruffian, “ are we not free men ? If our governor, the Senor 
Don Antonio Valverde, insists in plundering us, Pincheira is not so far 
off but that we may come to an understanding with him. Although an 
Indian chief, he is of the white race, without any mixture, and a true 
Caballero.” 

“ Hold your tongue, Panchito,” another said ; “ you would be better if 
you swallowed your words instead of talking such nonsense.” 

“ I have a right to speak,” said Panchito. 

“ Don’t you know that invisible eyes and ears are prowling about 
us?” 

“ Nonsense,” said the first speaker, with a shrug of the shoulders ; 
“ you are always frightened, Corrocho.” 

“ Panchito 1 ” 

“ What, am I not right ? Why does Don Antonio wish us so much 
harm ? ” 

“You are mistaken,” a third gaucho intermpted, with a laugh, “the 
governor, on the contrary, desires your comfort, and the proof is that he 
takes as much as he possibly can from you.” 

“ Well,” Panchito exclaimod, “ after us the end of the world 1 ” 

“ In the meanwhile, let us drink,” said Patito. 

“ Yes,” Panchito replied, “ let us drink. Besides, have we not Don 
Torribio Carvajal to help us ? ” 

“ That’s another name that ought to stick in your throat, especially 


El Carmen. 


11 


here,” Corrocho exclaimed, striking the table angrily with his fist ; 
“ can’t you hold your tongue, accursed dog ? ” 

“ Are you trying to bully me ? ” said Panchito. “ Canario, you are 
beginning to stir my blood.” 

“Bully you? Why not, if you deserved it?” the other answered. 
“ Carai, for the last two hours you have been drinking like a sponge ; 
you are as full as a butt, and you chatter like a foolish old woman. 
Hold your tongue.” 

“ Sangre de Cristo ! ” Panchito yelled, as he dug his knife vigorously 
into the bar, “ you will give me satisfaction.” 

“ On my word, bloodletting will do you good, and my hand itches t<r 
give you a navajada on your ugly chops.” 

“ Ugly chops, did you say ? ” 

And Panchito rushed upon Corrocho, who waited for him with a'Amj 
foot. 

“Peace, peace, Caballeros, in Heaven’s name or the fiend’s,” the pulp- 
ero said ; “ no quarrelling in my house; if you wish to have it out, the 
street is free.” 

“ The pulpero is right,” said Panchito ; “ come on, then, if you are a 
man.” 

“ Willingly.” 

The two gauchos, followed by their comrades, dashed out into the 
street. As for the pulpero, standing in his doorway with his hands in 
his pockets, he whistled a dance tune. 

Panchito and Corrocho, who had already taken off their hats, and 
bowed with affected politeness to each other, after rolling their poncho 
round the left arm, in guise of a buckler, drew their long knives from 
their polenas, and, without exchanging a syllable, stood on guard with 
remarkable coolness. 

In this species of duel the honour consists in touching the adversary 
in the face. 

The two adversaries, solidly planted on their straddled legs, with 
bodies bent and head thrown back, looked at each other attentively, to 
divine movements, parry strokes, and scar each other. The fight con- 
tinued on both sides with equal success for some minutes, when Panchito, 
whose sight was doubtless obstructed by copious libations, parried a 
second too late, and felt the point of Corrocho’s knife cut the skin of his 
face its whole length. 

“ Bravo ! bravo I ” all the gauchos exclaimed, simultaneously, “ well 
hit.” 

The combatants fell back a step, bowed to the spectators, sheathed 
their knives again, bowed to each other with a species of courtesy, and, 
after shaking hands, re-entered the pulperia arm-in-arm. 

Those of El Carmen, the great majority exiled for crimes, have 
retained their sanguinary habits and their contempt of life. Indefatig- 
able gamblers, they have cards incessantly in their hands ; and gambling 
is a fertile source of quarrelling, in which the knife plays the greatest 
part. Careless of the future and of present suffering, hardened to 
physical pain, they disdain death as much as life, and recoil before no 


1 % 


The Last of the Aucas, 


danger. Well, these men, who frequently abandon their families to go 
and live in greater liberty amid savage hordes ; who gladly and without 
emotion shed the blood of their fellow-men ; who are implacable in 
their hatred ; are yet capable of ardent friendship and extraordinary 
self-denial and devotion. Their character offers a strange medley of 
good and evil, of unbridled vices and of real qualities. They are, in 
turn, and simultaneously, quarrelsome, indolent, drunken. Cruel, proud, 
brave to rashness, and devoted to a friend or patron of their choice. 
From childhood blood flows beneath their hands in the estancias at the 
period of mantaza del ganado (cattle-slaughtering), and they thus 
habituate themselves to the colour of the human purple. Lastly, their 
jests are as coarse as their manners ; and the most delicate and frequent 
of them IS to threaten with a knife under the most frivolous pretexts. 

While the gauchos, on returning to the pulperia after the quarrel, 
were bedewing their reconciliation, and drowning in floods of chicha the 
remembrance of this little incident, a man, wrapped in a large cloak, and 
with his hat pulled over his eyes, entered the shop without saying a 
word, went up to the bar, took an apparently indifferent glance around 
him, lit a cigarette at the brasero, and with a piastre he held in his hand 
hit the table three sharp blows. 

At this unexpected sound, which resembled a signal, the gauchos, who 
were talking eagerly together, were silent as if they had received an 
electric shock. 

The stranger threw away his half-consumed cigarette, and went out 
of the door as silently as he had entered it. A moment after Panchito, 
who was wiping his cheek, and Corrocho, both pretending to remember 
some important business, quitted the pulperia. 

“ Hum ! ” the pulpero growled, “ there are three scamps, who seem to 
be arranging some dog’s trick, in which every man’s head will not remain 
on his shoulders. Well, it is their business, after all.” 

The other gauchos, completely absorbed in their game of monte, and 
bent over the cards, had not noticed the departure of their comrades. 
The stranger, when at some distance from the pulperia, turned round. 
The two gauchos were walking almost close behind him, and carelessly 
talking, like two loungers who were taking a walk. 

Where was Patito ? He had disappeared. 

After making an almost imperceptible sign to the two gauchos, the 
stranger set out again, and followed a road which, by an insensible 
curve, left the waterside and gradually entered the plain. This road, 
after leaving Poblacion, took a rather sharp turn, and at the corner of 
the path a horseman, proceeding to the village at a smart trot, passed 
the three men ; but neither the gauchos nor the stranger remarked him. 
As for the rider, he gave them a rapid and piercing glance, and checked 
the pace of his horse. 

“ Heaven pardon me I ” he said to himself, “ ’tis Don Torribio, or the 
fiend, in flesh and bone. What can he be doing there in the company 
of those two bandits ? May I lose my name of Bias Sallazar if I won’t 
find out.” 

And he dismounted. Senor Bias Sallazar was a man of five-and* 


El Carmen, 


13 


thirty, rather above the average height, and somewhat corpulent ; but, 
on the other hand, the squareness of his wide shoulders and his sturdy 
limbs indicated muscular strength, while his small grey eye was spark- 
ling with intelligence. 

He then led his horse to the pulperia the gauchos had just left, and 
entrusted it to the landlord. 

This duty performed, Bias retraced his footsteps with the most minute 
precautions. The gauchos were ahead of him, and disappeared behind 
a shifting sand-ridge at the moment he turned the corner in the road. 
Still he soon saw them again, climbing up a steep path that led to a 
thick clump of trees. 

Sure now of finding them, Bias walked on more slowly, and lit a 
cigarette. The gauchos did not look round once, but entered the wood 
after the man whom Bias had recognised as Don Torribio. When 
Bias, in his turn, reached the skirt of the wood, instead of entering the 
wood immediately, he took a slight bend to his right, and then stooping 
down, began crawling on his hands and knees with the greatest caution. 

In a few minutes voices reached his ear. He then raised his head 
softly, and saw the three men standing together and talking eagerly in a 
clearing about ten paces from him. He rose, concealed himself behind 
a maple tree, and began listening. 

Don Torribio had let his cloak fall, and with his shoulder leant against 
a tree, and with his legs crossed, he was listening with visible impatience 
to what Panchito was saying at this moment. Don Torribio was a man 
of eight-and-twenty, handsome, tall, and well-built, possessing elegance 
and nobility in his every movement, and with the haughty attitude which 
is produced by a habit of commanding. Two large quick eyes lit up the 
oval of his face — two eyes charged, apparently, with lightning, and 
whose strange fascination it was almost impossible to endure. His 
flexible nostrils seemed to expand through quick passions ; a cold mockery 
was imbedded in the corners of his mouth, which was filled with splendid 
teeth and surmounted by a black moustache. His forehead was large, 
his skin bronzed by the heat of the sun, and his hair long and silky. 
Still, in spite of all this prodigality of Nature, his haughty and disdain* 
ful expression produced, in the end, a sort of repulsion. 

Don Torribio’s hands were small and encased in splendid-fitting 
gloves, and his high-ankled feet were covered by patent leather boots. 
As for his dress, which was extremely costly, it was in appearance much 
like that of the gauchos. His shirt-collar was fastened with a diamond 
of enormous value, and his fine-tissued poncho was worth more than 
five hundred piastres. 

Two years before this story Don Torribio Carvajal arrived at Carmen 
a stranger to everybody, and all asked themselves, “ Where does he 
come from ? whence does he get his princely fortune ? where are his 
estates ? ” Don Torribio had purchased an estancia in the colony, situ- 
ated some two or three leagues from Carmen, and, under pretext of 
defending it against the Indians, had fortified it, surrounded it with 
moats and palisades, and mounted six guns. He had thus walled in 
his existence and routed curiosity. Though the gates of his estancia 


14 


The Last t^f the Aucas, 


were never opened to any guest, he was welcomed by the first families 
at Carmen, whom he visited assiduously, and then, to the great surprise 
of all, he disappeared for several months. The ladies had wasted theif 
smiles and glances, the men their adroit questions to make Don Tor- 
ribio speak. Don Antonio Valverde, to whom his post of being 
governor gave the right of being curious, had not failed to feel some 
alarm about the handsome stranger, but weary of losing his leisure in 
inquiries, he left the matter to time, which sooner oj: later rends asunder 
the densest veils. 

Such was the man who was listening to Panchito in the brake, and all 
that was known about him. 

“ Enough ! " he said, passionately, interrupting the gaucho ; “ you are 
a dog, and the son of a dog.” 

Senor ! ” said Panchito, drawing himself up. 

“ I am inclined to crush you, like the wretch you are.” 

Threats to me ! ” the gaucho shouted, pale with rage, and drawing 
his knife. 

Don Torribio clutched the fellow’s wrist with his gloved hand, and 
twisted it so rudely that he let the weapon fall with a cry of pain. 

“ On your knees, and ask pardon,” the gentleman said, as he twisted 
Panchito to the ground. 

“ No ; kill me sooner.” 

“ Begone, villain ; you are only a brute beast.” 

The gaucho rose tottering, his eyes were filled with blood, his lips 
were livid, and his whole body trembled. He picked up his knife, and 
approached Don Torribio, who waited for him with folded arms. 

“ Well, yes,” he said, “ I am a brute beast, but I love you, after all. 
Forgive me or kill me, but do not send me away.” 

“ Begone ! ” 

“ Is that your last word ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

To the demon, then.” 

And the gaucho, with a movement rapid as thought, raised his knife 
to stab himself. 

“ I forgive you,” Don Torribio said, after checking Panchito’s arm ; 
“ but if you wish to serve me, be dumb as a corpse.” 

The gaucho fell at his feet, and covered his hand with kisses, like a 
dog licking his master, who has chastised it. Corrocho remained a 
motionless observer of the scene. 

“ What power does this strange man possess to be thus beloved P* 
muttered Bias Sallazar, who was still concealed behind his treei 


CHAPTER Til. 

DON TORRIBIO CARVAJAL. 

After a short silence, Don Torribio continued — 

“ I know that pou are devoted to me, and I have perfect confidence 
in you ; but you are a drunkard, Panchito, and drink is a bad coun- 
sellor.” 

“ I will drink no more,” the guacho answered. 

Don Torribio smiled. 

“ Drink, but without destroying reason. When drunk, men utter 
words, as you did just now, which cannot be recalled, and are more 
deadly than a dagger. It is not your master who is now speaking, but 
the friend. Can I count on both of you ? ” 

“ Yes,” the gauchos said. 

“ I am going away ; but you must not leave the colony, but be ready 
for anything. Before all, carefully watch the house of Don Valentine 
Cardoso, both inside and out. If anything extraordinary happens to 
him or his daughter, Dona Concha, you will immediately light two fires, 
one on the cliff of the Urubus, the other on that of San Xavier, and 
within a few hours you will hear from me. Do you promise to execute 
promptly and devotedly any order of mine, however extraordinary it 
may appear to you ? ” 

“ We swear it.” 

“ That is well. One word in conclusion. Connect yourselves with as 
many gauchos as you can ; try, without exciting suspicion, which always 
sleeps with one eye open, to collect a band of determined fellows. By- 
the-bye, distrust Patito ; he is a traitor.” - 

“ Must he be killed ? ” Corrocho asked. 

“ Perhaps it wOuld be prudent, but you would have to get rid of him 
cleverly.” 

The two gauchos exchanged a side-glance, but Don Torribio pretended 
not to see it. 

“ Do you want money ? ” 

“ No, master.” 

“ No matter ; take this.” 

He threw to Corrocho a long silk purse, through the meshes of which 
a great number of gold ounces' glittered. 

“ My horse, Panchito.” 

The gaucho entered the wood, and almost immediately reappeared, 
holding the bridle of a magnificent charger, upon whose back Don Tor* 
ribio leaped. 


The Last ^ the Aucas, 


i6 


“ Farewell,” he said to them; “ prudence and fidelity ; any indiscretion 
would cost your life.” 

And, after giving the gauchos a friendly nod, he dug his spurs into the 
horse’s sides, and went off in the direction of Carmen, while Corrocho 
and Panchito went back towards Poblacion del Sur. As soon as they 
had gone some distance the bushes in a corner of the brake were shaken, 
and a face pale with fear peeped out. This head belonged to Patito, 
who, with a pistol in one hand and a knife in the other, drew himself 
up, and looked around with great agitation, while muttering in a low 
voice — 

“ Canario ! kill me cleverly. We shall see, we shall see. Santa Virgen 
del Pilar ! what demons ! Well, listening is a good thing.” 

“ It is the only way to hear,” some one replied, in a mocking voice. 

“ Who’s there ? ” Patito shouted, as he leaped on one side. 

“A friend!” Bias Sallazar answered, as he came from behind the 
maple and joined the gaucho, whose hand he shook. 

“ Ah, ah, capataz, you are welcome. You were listening too, then?” 

“ I should think so. I took advantage of the opportunity to learn 
something about Don Torribio.” 

“ Well ? ” 

“This Caballero appears to me a precious scoundrel, but, with the aid 
of Heaven, we will ruin his dark scheme.” 

“ So be it 1 ” 

“ In the first place, what do you mean to do ? ” 

“ Really I do not know. I do not like that ‘ kill me cleverly.’ 
Corrocho and Panchito are certainly the most hideous villains of the 
pampa.” 

“ Caramba ! I have known them a long time, and at present they 
alarm me but slightly.” 

“ But me?” 

“ Nonsense ; you are not dead yet.’’ 

“ I am not much better.” 

“ What, are you afraid of them ?— you, the boldest panther-hunter of 
my acquaintance ? ” 

“ A panther is, after all, only a panther, and you can get the better of 
it with a bullet ; but these two fellows Don Torribio has let loose on me 
are demons.” 

“ That is true ; so let us proceed to the most important point. Don 
\'alentine Cardoso, whose capataz I am, is my foster-brother, and I am 
devoted to him body and soul. Don Torribio is forming some infernal 
plot against my master’s family, which I wish to foil. Are you decided 
to hmd me a hand ? Two men who have only one will between them 
can do a great deal.” 

Frankness for frankness, Don Bias,” Patito answered, after a 
moment’s deliberation. “ This morning I should have refused ; this 
evening I accept, because I no longer run a risk of betraying the gauchos, 
my comrades. The position is changed. Kill me cleverly ! By Heaven 
will avenge myself. I belong to you, capataz, as my knife-blade does 
jD its hilt — ^yours body and soul, on the word of a gaucho.” 


Don Torrilio CarvajaL 


T? 


Excellent,” said Don Bias; ‘'we shall be able to understand each 
other. Get on your horse, and go and wait for me at the estancia. I 
shall return there after sunset, and we will draw up the plan of the 
countermine.” 

“ Agreed. Where are you going?” 

“ To Don Valentine Cardoso.” 

This evening, then ? ” 

“ This evening.” 

They then separated. Patito, whose horse was hidden a short distance 
off, galloped towards the estancia of San Julian, of which Don Bias 
was the capataz, while the latter proceeded in great haste towards the 
Poblacion. 

Don Valentine Cardoso was one of the richest landed proprietors in 
Carmen, where his family had been established since the foundation of 
the colony. He was a man of about five-and-forty. 

Left a widower after two short years of marriage, Don Valentine had 
kept the memory of his wife locked up in his heart like a sacred relic, 
and devoted himself entirely to the education of their daughter Concep- 
tion, called more familiarly Concha. 

Don Valentine lived in the Poblacion of old Carmen, near the fort. 

A few hours after the events we have recorded two persons were 
seated near a brasero in a drawing-room of the elegant mansion. 

In this drawing-room, furnished in the French style, a stranger might 
have believed himself transported to the Faubourg St. Germain ; there 
was the same luxury in the paper-hangings, the same taste in the choice 
and arrangement of the furniture. 

Don Valentine Cardoso and his daughter Conchita were seated near 
the brasero. 

Dona Concha, scarcely fifteen years of age, was exquisitely beautiful. 
The raven arch of eyebrows, traced as with a pencil, heightened the 
grace of her rather low and pale forehead ; her large blue and thoughtful 
eyes, fringed with long brown lashes, contrasted harmoniously with her 
ebony black hair, which curled round her delicate neck. Short, like all 
true-blooded Spanish women, her waist was exquisitely small. Never 
had smaller feet trodden in the dance, and never had a more dainty 
hand nestled in that of a lover. Her movements, careless as those of 
all the creoles, were undulating and full of salero^ as the Spaniards 
say. 

Her dress, which was charmingly simple, consisted of a dressing-gown 
of white cashmere, embroidered with large silk flowers in bright colours, 
and fastened round the hips by a cord and tassels. A Mechlin lace veil 
was thrown carelessly over her shoulders, while her feet were thrust into 
pink slippers, lined with swansdown. 

“Yes, father,” said Dona Conchita, who was smoking a tiny husk 
cigarette, “ a ship has arrived to-day from Buenos Ayres with the pret- 
tiest birds in the world.” 

“ Well, little one ? ” 

“ I fancy that my dear father,” she remarked, “ is not at all gallant 
this evening.” 


i8 


The Last of the Aucas, 


“ What do you know about it, young lady ? ” Don Valentine replied, 
with a smile. 

“ No, have you really,” she said, clapping her hands with delight, 
“ thought of ” 

“ Buying you some birds.? You will to-morrow see your aviary stocked 
with parrots, Bengalis, macaws, humming-birds — in short, about four 
hundred specimens, you ungrateful little chit.” 

“ Oh, how good you are, father, and how I love you I ” the girl replied, 
throwing her arms round his neck, and embracing him several times. 

“ Enough, enough, madcap I Do you want to stifle me with your 
caresses ? ” 

“ What can I do to requite* your kindness ? ” 

“ Poor dear, I have only you to love now.” 

“ Say ‘ adore,’ my darling father ; for it is adoration you feel for me.” 

“ And yet,” Don Valentine said, with a gentle accent of reproach, 
“ you do not fear, naughty girl, to cause me anxiety.” 

“ I ? ” Concha asked, with an internal tremor. 

“ Come, child, a father’s eyes can read the heart of a girl of fifteen, 
and for some days past, if I am not mistaken, I have not been the sole 
object of your thoughts/* 

“ That is true,” the girl replied, with a certain amount ol resolu- 
tion. 

“ And whom are you dreaming of, little maid ? ” 

“ Of Don Torribio Carvajal.” 

“ Ah ! ” the father cried, in a choking voice ; and do you love 
him ? ” 

“ No,” she answered. “ Listen, father, I will conceal nothing from 
you. No, I do not love Don Torribio, still he occupies my thoughts ; 
why, I cannot say, but his look troubles and fascinates me, his voice 
causes me pain ; he is handsome, his manners are elegant and noble, he 
has everything belonging to a gentleman of high caste, and yet some- 
thing in him, something checks me, and inspires me with invincible 
repugnance.” 

“You romantic girl ! ” 

“ Laugh at me, ridicule me, if you will,” she said ; “ but shall I confess 
all to you, father ? ” 

“ Speak with confidence.” 

“ Well, 1 have a presentiment that this man will be dangerous to 
me.” 

“ Child,” Don Valentine replied, as he kissed her forehead, “ what can 
^e do to you ? ” 

“ I do not know ; but I am afraid.” 

“ You are losing your head, and taking pleasure in creating 
chimeras.” 

At the same moment a man-servant announced Don Torribio Car- 
vajal. The young man was dressed in the latest Parisian fashion. 

Father and daughter started. 

Don Torribio walked up to Dona Concha, bowed gracefully, and 
offered her a superb bouquet of exotic flowers. She thanked him with 


Don Torribio CarvajaL 


19 


a smile, took the bouquet, and, almost without looking at it, laid it on a 
table. 

In succession were announced the governor, Don Antonio Valverde, 
accompanied by his whole staff, and two or three other families, or 
altogether some fifteen persons. By degrees the conversation grew 
animated. 

“ Well, colonel,” Don Valentine asked, “ what news ? ” 

“ Our great Rosas,” the colonel answered, who was stifling in his 
uniform, “ has again defeated Oribe’s Unitarian savages.” 

“ Heaven be praised I perhaps that victory will procure us a little 
tranquillity.” 

“ Yes,” a colonist remarked ; “ communications are becoming 
difficult.” 

“ Can the Indians be stirring ? ” a merchant asked, anxiously, on 
hearing the observation. 

‘‘ Oh ! ” the stout commandant interrupted, “ there is no danger ; the 
last lesson they received was a rude one.” 

An almost invisible smile played round Don Torribio’s lips. 

In case of an invasion, do you consider them capable of seriously 
troubling the colony ? ” 

“ Hum ! ” Don Antonio answered, “ take them altogether they are 
poor scrubs.” 

The young man smiled in a sinister manner. 

“ Excellency,” he said, “ I am of your opinion ; I believe the Indians 
will do well in remaining at home.” 

“ I should think so,” the commandant exclaimed. 

“ Senorita,” Don Torribio said, turning to Dona Concha, “ would it 
be too great a favour to ask you to sing that delicious air from the Black 
Domino which you sang so exquisitely the other evening ? ” 

The young lady, without further pressing, sat down to the pianoforte, 
and sang in a pure voice. 

“ I heard that sung in Paris by Madame Damoreau, a nightingale who 
has flown away, and I cannot say which of you displays more grace or 
simplicity.” 

“ Don Torribio,” Dona Concha answered, “ you have lived too long 
in France. You have come back a detestable flatterer.” 

“ Bravo ! ” the governor said, with a hearty laugh. “ You see, Don 
Torribio, that our creoles are equal to the Parisian ladies in repartee.” 

“ Incontestably, colonel,” the young man replied ; “ but leave me 
alone,” he added, “ I shall soon take my revenge.” 

And he gave Dona Concha a look that made her shudder. 

“ I trust, Don Torribio,” the governor said, “that you will be present 
to-morrow at the Te DeiimP 

“ Impossible, colonel ; this very evening I start on a compulsory 
journey.” 

“ What, another of your mysterious excursions P ” 

“ Yes, but this one will not be long.” 

“All the better.” 

’ Qiiien sahe ? ” the young man murmured. 


ao 


The Last of the Jucas, 


Dona Concha, who had heard the last words, was not mistress of hei 
terror. 

The visitors took leave one after the other, and Don Torribio CarvajaJ 
was at length left alone with his host. 

“ Senorita,” he said, on taking leave, “ I am setting out on a journey 
in which I shall doubtless incur great dangers. May I hope that you 
will deign to remember me in your prayers 

Concha looked at him for a moment, and replied, with a frankness 
which was natural to her — 

“ Senor caballero, I cannot pray for the success of a mysterious 
expedition.” 

“ Thanks for your frankness, mademoiselle,” Don Torribio answered. 
“ I shall not forget your words.” 

And after the customary compliments he retired. 

“ The capataz of San Julian, Don Bias Sallazar, wishes to speak with 
Senor Don Valentine Cardoso on important business.” 

“ Let him come in,” Don Valentine said to the servant who had 
announced the capataz, “ Conchita, come and sit by my side on this 
sofa.” 

“ Proud girl,” said Don Torribio (who was extremely agitated when 
he left the house), in a hollow and terrible voice, “ I shall punish you 
for your disdain.” 

Then, wrapping himself in his cloak, he went at a rapid pace to a 
house situated a short distance off, where he generally lived when at 
Carmen. 

Twenty minutes later the gate opened again to let two horsemen pass 
out. 

“ Master, where are we going ? ” one asked. 

“ To the tree of Gualichu,” the other replied; and added in a whisper, 
“ to seek vengeance,” 


CHAPTER IV. 

THE TREE OF GUALICHU, 

As a general rule, the Southern natives have a divinity, or, to speak 
more correctly, a genius, sometimes benevolent, but more frequently 
maleficent, and their worship is less veneration than fear. This genius 
is called Achellenat Kanet by the Patagonians, Quecuba by the Aucas, 
and Gualichu by the Puelches. And, as the latter have more especially 
traversed the country in which the sacred tree stands, they have 


Tke Tree of Gualichu. 




perpetuated the name of their evil genius by giving it to the tree, to 
which they attribute the same power. 

The belief in Gualichu dates back to the most remote antiquity on the 
pampas. 

This wicked god is simply a stunted tree, which, if mingled with 
other trees, would not have attracted attention, but which alone, and as 
it were lost in the immensity of the plains, serves as a beacon to the 
traveller wearied by a long journey across the oceans of sand. It rises 
to a height of thirty-five or forty feet, all twisted and prickly, and its 
withered trunk is rounded into a large cavity, in which men and women 
lay their presents in tobacco, beads, and corn. It is several centuries 
old, and belongs to that species of the acacia family which the Hispano- 
Americans designate by the name of Algarobo, 

The wandering hordes of Indians, doubtless struck by the solitude of 
this tree in the midst of the deserts, constituted it the object of their 
worship. In fact, its branches are covered with various offerings, many 
of some value ; here a poncho, there a manta ; further on, woollen or 
cotton ribbons ; while on all sides garments, more or less injured and 
torn by the wind, are affixed to the thorns, which give this sacred tree 
the appearance of an old-clothes’ shop. No Indian, whether Aucas, 
Patagonian, Puelche, or Tehuetche, would venture to pass it without 
leaving something ; and the man who has nothing else cuts off his 
horse’s mane and fastens it to the tree. The most precious offering in 
the sight of the Indians is that of their horse, and hence the great 
number of slaughtered horses round the tree attests the vitality of their 
faith. 

The religion of the Southern natives, thoroughly primitive and spared 
by the conquest, does not take the moral being into account, and is only 
arrested by accidents of Nature, of which it makes gods. These people 
strive to make the deserts, where fatigue and thirst produce death, and 
the rivers that may swallow them up, favourable to them. 

At the foot of the tree of Gualichu, a few hours after the events 
already narrated, a strange scene was taking place, rendered still more 
striking by the density of the darkness, and by the storm which was 
approaching. Heavy black clouds rolled athwart the sky ; the wind 
blew in gusts with a shrill whistle, and large drops of rain fell on the sand. 

Around the sacred tree the Indians had improvised a village composed 
of some forty huts. Before each toldo crackled a bright fire, round 
which two or three Indian squaws were crouching to warm themselves, 
without taking their eye off the hobbled horses. 

An immense fire, resembling a funereal pyre, flamed a few paces from 
the tree of Gualichu, and was surrounded by twenty Indians, whose 
grand war-paint led to the supposition that they were preparing for an 
important ceremony. 

Suddenly a shrill whistle cleft the air, and announced the arrival of 
two horsemen ; one of them dismounted, threw his horse’s bridle to his 
comrade, and walked into the circle formed by the warriors. 

“ I salute my brothers,” he said, looking round him ; “ may Gualichu 
protect them I " 


The Last of the Aucas. 


% 7 , 


** Salutation to Pincheira,” the Indians responded. 

Are all the chiefs assembled ? ” he continued. 

“ All,” a voice replied, “ with the exception of Nocobotha, the grand 
toqui of the Aucas.” 

“ He will not be long ; let us wait.” 

The silence had been scarce established ere a second whistle was 
beard, and two other horsemen entered the circle of light projected by 
the fires. 

Only one man dismounted. He was tall and fierce-looking, and 
dressed in the costume of the Aucas warriors, the most civilised and 
intelligent Indian nation in the whole of South America. 

This warrior was one of the most perfect types of his indomitable 
race ; all his features bore the distinctive character of the haughty Incas, 
who were so long masters of Peru. His costume, differing from that of 
the Patagonians, who employ the skins of beasts, was composed of 
woollen cloth striped with silver. A blue chaman covered his body from 
the waist, where it was fastened with a woollen girdle, down toThe knee, 
in this way exactly resembling the chilipa of the gauchos, who borrowed 
from the Indians this garment and the short blue and red striped 
poncho ; his boots, armed with silver spurs, and cleverly sewn with the 
tendons of animals, were made of the tanned hide of the guemul^ a 
species of llama ; his hair was divided at the back of the head into three 
tails, fastened together at the end with a tuft of wool, while in front the 
rest of his hair was raised and fastened with a blue ribbon, which, after 
three turns, fell on one side, and terminated in small pieces of rolled-up 
silver. His brow was girt by a circle of massive gold, a species of 
diadem, three inches in width, and in the centre of which sparkled a sun 
composed of precious stones ; a diamond of enormous value hung from 
each of his ears ; his cloak of guanaco skins, which fell down to the 
ground, was held on his shoulders by a silk cord, and was fastened with 
a diamond. Two six-chambered revolvers glistened in his waist-belt ; 
on his right hip hung a machete, or short sabre with a very wide blade, 
and he held in his hand a double-barrelled rifle. 

His arrival created a lively sensation among the chiefs ; all bowed 
before him respectfully, while murmuring with delight— 

“ Nocobotha I Nocobotha I ” 

“ The nacurulu has sung twice,” he began ; “ the osprey of the Rio 
Negro has raised its melancholy cry ; the night is drawing in. What 
have the chiefs of the great nations resolved ? ” 

“ It would be useful, I think,” one of the Indians answered, “ to 
implore the protection of Gualichu for the council.” 

The advice of my brother, Metipan, is wise. Let the match! be 
warned.” 

While a chief went off to fetch the match!, or sorcerer, another chief ^ 
quitted the circle, went up to Nocobotha, whispered something to him, 
and then returned to his place. The toqui at once shouted in a loud and 
menacing voice — 

“ A traitor is among us ! Attention, brothers I ” 

A shudde*" of passion ran through the anks. 


The Tree oj Gualichu, 




“ He must die ! ” they shouted unanimously. 

“ It is well,” Nocobotha answers. 

On hearing these words, a man, clothed like the other chiefs, suddenly 
bounded out of the circle, and uttered three different times the hoarse 
croak of the urubus. He leant against the trunk of the tree of Gualichu, 
and with his legs apart, and a pistol in each hand, waited. This man 
was Pedrito, the bombero. 

A living wail, formed of hundreds of Indians, rose in arms before him 
and menaced him from all sides. Pedrito, to whom flight was impos- 
sible, frowned, gnashed his teeth, and foamed with rage. 

“ I am waiting for you, dogs ! ” he yelled. 

“ Forward ! forward ! ” the Indians shouted. 

“ Silence 1 ” Nocobotha ordered, in a rough voice. “ I wish to ques- 
tion him.” 

“ What good is it ? ” Pincheira remarked. “ He is a rat of the 
pampa — a bombero. I recognise him. Let us kill him at onqe.” 

“ A bombero ! ” the Indians yelled anew. “ Death to him I death I ” 

“ Silence ! ” said Nocobotha ; “who dares to interrupt 

At the command of the master silence was re-established. 

“ Who are you ? ” the toqui asked. 

Pedrito replied with a grin, and crossing his arms, though he did not 
let go his pistols. 

“ Answer, if you would not die ; you are in my power,” 

“ A brave man only belongs to himself.” 

“ Surrender, and no harm will be done you.” 

“ A bombero never surrenders.” 

“ Why did you introduce yourself among us P” 

“ Canario ! I came to learn the object of this nocturnal meeting.” 

“You are frank, at any rate, but resistance would be useless, so 
surrender.” 

“ Are you mad, my master P” 

“ Forward 1 ” Nocobotha shouted to the Indians. 

The latter rushed on. Two pistol shots were fired, and two Indians 
writhed on the sand. While the others hesitated, Pedrito returned his 
pistols to his belt, and drew his machete. 

“ Way, way 1 ” 

And Pedrito dashed at the Indians, hitting right and left. Nocobotha 
threw himself in his path, with the roar of a lion. 

“ Ah, ah ! ” said the bombero, “ my worthy chief with the diamond 
sun, it is our turn.” 

All at once three shots were fired behind the Indians, and three horse- 
iT''=‘n dashed upon them, scattering terror and death. The Indians, not 
knowing how many enemies they had to contend with, began dispersing 
in all directions, with the exception of the more resolute, who held their 
ground and continued to resist the assailants. 

The three bomberos, summoned by the hoarse croaking of Pedrito, 
had hastened up to their brother ; they helped him to get on to th« 
saddle of the horse they had brought up for him. 

‘ Ah I ” they shouted, “ down with the Indian dogs I ” 


*4 


The Last of the Aucas, 


Nocobotha dealt the Spaniard a blow with the machete, to which he 
responded by a cut that scarred his adversary’s face. 

“ Eh I ” the bombero said to him, “ I shall recognise you if ever we 
meet again,” 

“ Villain ! ” the chief said, as he fired a pistol at him. 

“ He has killed me,” said Pedrito, in a faint voice. Brothers, do 
not leave my corpse to them.” 

But the Indians, when the first moment of panic had passed, being 
able to count their enemies, returned to the charge, and threatened to 
overwhelm them by their numbers. The position was horrible, and 
Pedrito shouted — 

“ Fly I Leave me alone here ; in a few minutes I shall be dead,” 

“ No } ” they replied, “ we will all get away or perish together.” 

The fight meanwhile was going on two yards at the most from the 
tree of Gualichu. Pedrito, while his brothers were defending themselves, 
slipped down to the ground, and when the bomberos turned round they 
found his horse without its rider. Pedrito had disappeared. 

“ He is dead ; what is to be done ? ” 

“ Obey him, as we were unable to save him,” Juan answered. 

“ Forward, then.” 

And all three, tearing up their horses’ sides with their spurs, bounded 
into the thick of the Indians. The collision was terrible ; still, a few 
seconds later, the bomberos, saved by their incredible audacity, were 
flying like the wind in three different directions. 

The Indians recognised the inutility of a pursuit, so they contented 
themselves with picking up their dead and counting the wounded, 
altogether some thirty victims. 

“ These Spaniards are perfect demons when they are obstinate.” said 
Pincheira. 

“Yes,” Nocobotha answered him, mad with fury, “ if ever I place my 
foot on their chest they will expiate the wrongs they have done my 
race.” 

“ I am entirely devoted to you,” Pincheira continued: 

“ Thanks, my friend. When the day comes 1 will remind you of your 
promise.” 

“ I shall be ready. But at present what are your designs ? ” 

“ The scar that madman has made on my head compels me to fire the 
train as soon as possible.” 

“ Do so, I pray, and let us finish with these accursed Spaniards as 
soon as we can.” 

“ Then you really hate your countrymen ? ” 

“ I have an Indian heart, and that is saying enough.” 

“ I will soon procure you the opportunity to slake your vengeance.” 

“ May heaven hear you ! ” 

“ But the chiefs have again assembled round the council-fire ; come, 
brother,” 


CHAPTER V. 


THE COUNCIL OF THE ULMENS. 

The Indians, while collecting their dead, sought in vain the corpse 
the white man, and persuaded themselves that his comrades had carried 
it off. 

What had really become of Pedrito ? 

The bombero was one of those iron men whom death alone can 
conquer. He wished, therefore, to be present at the council of the 
chiefs, the importance of which he suspected ; and instead of throwing 
his life away in an unequal struggle, he found in Nocobotha’s shot the 
pretext he was seeking. He pretended to be mortally wounded, and 
both friends and enemies were duped by his stratagem. 

So soon as he had slipped down off his horse he was able, either by 
crawling like a lizard, or leaping like a cougar, to hide himself in the 
hollow trunk of the tree. There he was as safe as in the fortress of 
Carmen. However, like a bold hunter, who has always time to be 
killed, he had not thrown his weapons away. His first care was to wrap 
up his arm in a piece of cloth, in order to prevent the flow of blood from 
his wound ; then he arranged himself as well as he could, with his head 
thrust slightly forward, to listen. 

All the chiefs were already assembled, and Lucaney, ulmen of the 
Puelches, was the first to speak, 

“ The Spaniard who dared to introduce himself among us, in order to 
violate the secret of our deliberations, is dead ; we are alone ; let us 
begin.” 

“ It shall be done according to the desire of my brother, the ulmen of 
the Puelches,” Nocobotha answered ; “ where is the wise matchi ? ” 

“ Here,” said a tall, thin man, whose face was striped, and who was 
dressed like a woman. 

“ Let the wise matchi approach and accomplish the rites.” 

“ A matchitun is necessary,” the sorcerer said. 

The usual preparations for this conjuration were immediately made. 
Two lances were planted, one on the right and one on the left of the 
sacred tree. On the left-hand one were hung a drum, and a vessel filled 
with fermented liquor ; twelve other vessels, containing similar liquor, 
were ranged in a circle from one lance to the other. A sheep and a colt 
were brought in, and deposited near the vessels, and two old squaws 
placed themselves by the side of the drum. The preparations terminated, 
the matchi turned to Nocobotha. 

“ Why does the ulmen of the Aucas ask for the matchitun ? ” he asked, 


The Last vf the jlucns. 


1^6 


Metipan stepped out of the circle. 

“ An hereditary hatred has for a long time separated the Aucas and 
the Pehuenches,” he said ; “ the interest of all the great nations desires 
the end of this hatred. Kelzulepan, my ancestor, ulmen of the 
Pehuenches, carried off a white slave belonging to Medzeliputzi, toqui 
of the Aucas, and great grandfather of Nocobotha. 

“ Before the assembled chiefs, in the face of heaven, I have come to 
tell Nocobotha, the descendant of Yupanqui, the son of the sun, that 
my ancestor behaved badly to his, and I am ready, in order to extinguish 
all discord — past, present, and future — to give him here a white, young, 
lovely, ^nd virgin slave.” 

“ I give up, before Gualichu,” Nocobotha answered, “the hatred which 
my nation and I had sworn against you and yours.” 

“ Does Gualichu approve our conduct ? ” Metipan asked. 

The matchi seemed to reflect profoundly. 

“ Yes,” he replied, “ you have gained the protection of Gualichu ; let 
the white slave be brought up ; perhaps he will demand that she should 
be surrendered to him.” 

“ His will be done,” both ulmen said. 

Two warriors led up a girl of about seventeen, and placed her between 
the lances, with her face turned to the tree of Gualichu. On seeing her, 
Pedrito felt a cold perspiration break out all over him, and a mist 
covered his eyes. 

“ Whence comes this strange emotion ? ” the bombero muttered to 
himself. 

The girl’s large black eyes had an expression of gentle melancholy. 
She was dressed after the fashion of the Pehuenche women ; the woollen 
quedito was rolled round her body, fastened on the shoulders by two 
silver pins, and on her limbs by 2i ,hepike, or silken girdle, six inches in 
width, and secured by a buckle. The tvvo ends of a square like a 

cloak, were fastened on her chest by a topu, adorned with a magnificent 
head in gold. She had on her neck two collars of beads, and on each 
of her arms four bracelets of glass, pearls, and silver balls. Her 
long black hair was parted down the centre into two tresses, tied 
up with blue ribbons, which floated on her shoulders, an(j ter- 
minated in bells ; on her head was a conical cap of blue and red 
beads. 

At this graceful apparition the Indians, who are very fond of white 
women, could not, despite their natural stoicism, restrain a murmur of 
admiration. 

At a signal from the matchi the ceremony began. The two old squaws 
beat the drum, while the spectators, guided by the sorcerer, struck up a 
symbolical song while dancing round the captive. 

The drum ceased with the song ; then the matchi lit a cigar, inhaled 
the smoke, and thrice perfumed the tree, the animals, and the maiden, 
whose bosom he at the same time laid bare. He put his mouth to it 
and began sucking till he drew blood, and the poor child made super- 
human efforts not to shriek. The dancing, accompanied by song, began 
again, and the old women beat the drum with all the strength of their 


The Council of the Ulmens. 


^7 


arms. Pedrito, full of compassion for the innocent victim of Indian 
superstition, longed to fly to her help. 

In the meanwhile the matchi, with his swollen cheeks, became more 
excited ; his eyes grew bloodshot, he seemed possessed by the demon, 
and all at once became furious ; he writhed and behaved like an 
epileptic. Then the dance ceased, and Metipan, with a stroke of his 
machete, cut open the flank of the colt, tore out its palpitating heart, 
and gave it to the sorcerer, who sucked the blood, and employed it to 
make a cross on the maiden’s brow. The latter, suffering from great 
terror, began to tremble violently. 

A storm, which had been gathering in the clouds, now broke out. A 
blue flash shot athwart the sky, the thunder rolled with a terrible din, 
and a blast of wind dashed over the plain, sweeping away the toldos, 
the fragments of which it dispersed far and wide. 

The Indians were already terrified by the storm, but more so when a 
; formidable voice, that appeared to issue from the tree of Gualichu, 
uttered the words — 

“ Retire 1 My wrath is let loose upon you. Leave this miserable 
white slave as an expiation of your crimes. Fly I and woe to those who 
look back 1 ” 

A livid flash and a violent peal of thunder served as peroration to this 
harangue. 

“ Let us fly I ” cried the matchi, who in his terror was ready to believe 
in his god. 

But, profiting by this unexpected intervention to enforce his own 
. power, he continued — 

“ Fly, brothers I Gualichu has spoken to his servant. Woe to those 
who resist his orders 1 ” 

The Indians had no need of this recommendation from their sorcerer ; 
a superstitious terror lent them wings. They rushed tumultuously 
towards the horses, and soon the desert echoed again with their wild 
flight. The tree of Gualichu was deserted, and the maiden alone lay 
fainting on the ground. 

When all was quiet on the pampa, and the sound of the horses’ gallop 
was lost in the distance, Pedrito thrust his head out of the tree, peered 
into the black depths of the night, and, reassured by the silence, ran up 
to the girl. Pale as a beauteous lily laid low by the storm, the poor girl 
had her eyes closed, and did not breathe. The bombero raised her in 
his muscular arms, and carried her close to the tree, laying her on a pile 
of skins belonging to a destroyed toldo. He placed her cautiously on 
this softer couch and her head hung insensibly on his chest. 

It was a strange group, in the midst of this devastated plain, only 
illuminated by the lightning flashes — this young and lovely girl and 
this rude wood-ranger offering a touching picture. 

Pain and sorrow were delineated on Pedrito’s face. He, whose whole 
life had been but one long drama, who had no faith in his heart, who 
was ignorant of gentle feelings and sweet sympathies, he, the bombero, 
the slayer of Indians, was moved and felt something new stir within him. 
Two heavy tears ran down his bronzed cheeks. 


The Last of the AucaSo 


a8 


** Can she be dead ? O Heaven ! ” 

This name, which he had hitherto only used in blasphemy, he uttered 
almost with respect. It was a sort of prayer and cry from his heart. 
This man believed. 

“ How to help her ? ” he asked himself. 

The rain that fell in torrents eventually restored the maiden, who, half 
opening her eyes, murmured, in a faint voice — 

“ Where am I P What has happened ? ” 

“ She speaks ! she lives I she is saved ! ” Pedrito exclaimed. 

** Who is there ? ” she asked. 

At the sight of the bombero’s gloomy face she had a fresh outburst of 
terror, and fell back exhausted. 

“ Reassure yourself, my girl. I am your friend.” 

“ My friend I what means that word ? Have slaves any friends ? Ah, 
yes,” she continued, speaking as if in a dream, “ I have suffered terribly. 
Still I can remember long, long ago, being happy, but alas 1 the worst 
misfortune is the recollection of past happiness.” 

She was silent. The bombero gazed at her, and listened to her with 
awe. That voice 1 those features ! 

“ Oh, speak, speak again,” he said ; what do you remember of your 
youthful years ? ” 

“ Why think of past joys in misfortune? what does it avail?” she 
added, shaking her head with discouragement. “ My history is that of 
all unfortunate persons. There was a time when, like other children, 
the song of birds lulled me to sleep, when flowers smiled on me when I 
awoke, and a mother who loved and embraced me — all that has fled for 
ever.” 

Pedrito had raised two poles covered with skins to shelter her from 
the storm, which was gradually subsiding. 

“ You are kind, for you have saved me ; still, your kindness was cruel, 
for why did you not let me die ? People who are dead no longer suffer. 
The Pehuenches will return, and then ” 

She did not conclude, but buried her face in her hands, with choking sobs, 

“ Fear nothing, senorita ; I will defend you.” 

“ Poor man 1 alone against all. But before my last hour arrives, 
listen to me, for I wish to relieve my heart. One day I was playing in 
my mother’s arms, my father was near us, with my two sisters, but my 
four brothers, resolute men who would not have feared twenty, were 
away. Well, the Pehuenches came up, they burned our estancia, they 
killed my mother, and ” 

“ Mercedes ! Mercedes I ” the bombero exclaimed, “ is it really you ? 
do I find you again ? ” 

That was the name my mother gave me.” 

“ It is I, Pedro, Pedrito, your brolher,” said the bombero, shouting 
with joy. 

“ Pedrito ! my brother 1 Yes, yes, I remember.” 

She fell senseless into her brother’s arms. 

“ Wretch that I am ! I have killed her 1 Mercedes, my beloved sister, 
come to yourself again 1 ” 


The Council of the Vlmens. 


29 


The maiden opened her eyes once more, and threw herself on the 
bombero’s neck, weeping with joy. 

“ Pedrito, my kind brother, do not leave me ; defend me ; they would 
kill me.” 

“ Poor girl ! they will pass over my body before reaching you.” 

“ They will do so,” a sarcastic voice exclaimed behind the tent. 

Two men appeared, Nocobotha and Pincheira. Pedrito, holding his 
sister, who was half dead with terror, leant against one of the posts, 
drew his machete, and prepared for defence. 

Nocobotha and Pincheira, too enlightened to be the dupes of the 
mysterious voice from the tree, and yield to the general panic, had, 
however, fled with their comrades ; but they had turned back. Curious 
to know the meaning of this enigma, and the author of the mystification, 
they had listened to the entire conversation between the bombero and 
his sister. 

“ Well,” Pincheira said, with a laugh, “ you seem tolerably lively for 
a dead man. It seems that you must be killed twice in order to make 
sure that you will not recover. But, be easy, if my friend missed you, I 
shall not.” 

“ What do you want with me ? ” Pedrito said. “ Let us pass.” 

Not at all,” Pincheira replied ; “ that would be rather too dangerous 
an example. And stay,” he added, after listening, “ do you hear that 
galloping ? your affair is as good as settled ; there are our warriors 
coming back.” 

In fact, the sound of horsemen drew nearer, and in the pale gleam of 
dawn the dim outlines of numerous horsemen could be distinguished in 
the distance. Pedrito saw that he was lost ; he kissed for the last time 
the pale brow of his unconscious sister, laid her behind him, crossed 
himself, and prepared to die like a brave man. 

“ Come,” said Nocobotha, “ let us have an end of this ; it looks as if 
this scoundrel were afraid.” 

y Make haste,” Pincheira answered, “ I hear our men, and if we do 
not make haste our pfey will be torn from us.” 

“ You did not fancy you were speaking so truly, Senor Pincheira,” 
Pepe exclaimed, suddenly appearing with his two brothers j “ now let 
us see who is to be killed.” 

“ Thanks, my brave brothers,” said Pedrito. 

“ Malediction 1 ” Pincheira said, with an oath, “ are these scoundrels 
everywhere ? ” 

“ I will not have him escape me," Nocobotha muttered, as he bit his 
lips till the blood came. 

“ Fie on you,” Pepe exclaimed, ironically. “ Defend yourselves like 
men, or I shall kill you like dogs.” 

The blades crossed, and the fight commenced. 


CHAPTER VI. 


NOCOBOTHA. 

Mercedes, who had recovered from her fainting fit, felt so terrified that 
she regretted that she had awoke again. 

After the first collision Nocobotha fell back a step, lowered his 
weapon, made Pincheira a sign to imitate him, and with folded arms 
walked towards the brothers. 

“ Stay,” he cried, “ this fight will not take place ; it is not proper for 
men to risk their lives in disputing for the possession of a woman.” 

An ironical smile contracted the bronzed faces of Pedrito’s brothers, 
while Piiicheira stamped his foot. The Indian chief continued, without 
heeding these marks of disapproval — 

“ A man’s blood is precious. Take away your sister, my good fellow. 
I give her to you.” 

“Our sister! ” the three young men exclaimed, with amazement. 

“ Yes,” Pedrito said ; “ but what conditions do you exact ? ” 

“ None,” the chief answered, nobly. 

Nocobotha’s generosity was the more disinterested because the bom* 
beros perceived by the first rays of the rising sun a band of nearly one 
thousand Indians, well equipped, and painted and armed for war, who 
had silently advanced and formed a circle round them. 

“ Can we,” Pedrito asked, “ trust to your word, and have no cause to 
fear a trap ?” 

‘ ‘My word,” the chief answered, haughtily, “ is more sacred than 
that of a white man. We have, like you, noble feelings, more so, per- 
haps, than others,” he added, pointing to a red line that traversed his 
face ; “ we know how to forgive.” 

Nocobotha read the thoughts of the bomberos oil their faces. They 
felt themselves conquered by the magnanimity of the chief, who smiled 
triumphantly on divining their astonishment and confusion. 

“ My friend,” he said to Pincheira, “ let fresh horses be given to these 
men.” 

Pincheira hesitated. 

“ At once,'’ he said, with a gesture full of supreme grace. 

The other, who was a senii-savage, yielding to Nocobotha’s supe- 
riority, obeyed, and five horses of great value, and ready saddled and 
bridled, were led up. 

“ Chief,” Pedrito said, in a slightly shaking voice, “ I am not grateful 
for my life, as I do not fear death ; but, in my brothers’ names and my 
own^ i thank you for our sister. We never forget an insult or a kind- 


Nocolotka. 


31 


ness. Farewell I perhaps I shall some day have the opportunity to prove 
to you that we are not ungrateful.” 

The chief bowed without answering. The bomberos grouped round 
Mercedes, returned his salute, and went off slowly. 

“ Well, it was your wish,” Pincheira said, shrugging his shoulders is 
vexation. 

“ Patience ! ” Nocobotha answered, in a deep voice. 

During this time an immense fire had been kindled at the foot of the 
tree of Gualichu, where the Indians, whose superstitious fears had been 
dissipated with the darkness, had again assembled in council. 

Nocobotha took up his speech at the point where it had been inter- 
rupted by the unexpected interference of the bombero. 

“ I thank my brother,” he said, “ for the gift of the white slave. From 
this day his nation and mine will form one family, whose herds will 
peacefully graze on the same pasturage, and whose warriors will sleep side 
by side on the war-track.” 

The match! then lit a pipe, and handed it to the two chiefs, who 
smoked in turn, passing the pipe to each other till the tobacco was 
entirely consumed. Then the pipe was thrown on the fire. 

“ Gualichu,” he said, solemnly, “has heard your words. Swear that 
your alliance will not be broken until you can again smoke that pipe.” 

“ We swear it.” 

The two ulmens laid each his left hand on the other’s right shoulder, 
stretched out the right hand to the sacred tree, and kissed each other on 
the lips, saying — 

“ Brother, receive this kiss. May my lips wither and my tongue be 
torn out if I betray my oath.” 

When the chiefs had returned to their places at the council-fire, 
Lucaney bowed to Nocobotha. 

“ What communications did my brother wish to make to the ulmens ? 

“ Ulmens of the Puelches, Araucanos, Pehuenches, Huileches, and 
Patagonians,” said Nocobotha, “ for many moons past my mind has 
been sad. I see with grief our hunting-grounds invaded by the white 
men. We whose countless tribes only a few centuries ago covered the 
land contained between the two seas are now reduced to a small band 
of warriors, who fly before our despoilers. Oilr sacred cities, the last 
refuges of the civilisation of our fathers, are about to become the prey 
of these human -faced monsters, who have no other god but gold. 

“ Tracked like wild animals, brutalised by fire-water, and decimated 
by the sword, our wandering hordes are but the shadow of a people. 
Our conquerors despise our religion, they outrage our wives, kill our 
children, and burn our villages. Has the blood of your fathers become 
impoverished in your veins ? Answer, will you die slaves or live as free 
men ? ” 

At these words, uttered in a masculine and penetrating voice, arid 
whose effect was heightened by the most majestic gestures, a quiver ran 
along the assembly. 

“ Speak, speak again ! ” they shouted. 

I'he great ulmen smiled proudly, and continued — 


The Last of the Auoas, 




“ The hour has at length arrived, after so much humiliation, to shake 
off the disgraceful yoke. Within a few days, if you are willing, we will 
drive the whites far from our borders. I have long been watching the 
Spaniards, and I know their tactics and resources ; and in order to anni* 
hilate them we only need skill and courage.” 

The Indians interrupted him with shouts of joy. 

“ You shall be free,” Nocobotha continued. “ I will restore to you 
the rich valleys of your ancestors. This project has, ever since I have 
become a man, been fermenting in my head. Far from you and me be 
the thought that I have any intention to force myself on you as leader 
of the army ! No ; you must chooseyour leader freely, and after having 
elected him, obey him blindly. Do not deceive yourselves ; our enemy 
is strong, his forces are numerous and well-disciplined. Appoint a 
supreme chief — select the most worthy, and I will joyfully march under 
his orders. I have spoken.” 

And, after bowing to the assembly, Nocobotha mingled with the crowd 
of chiefs, with a serene brow, but with his heart devoured by anxiety. 

His eloquence seduced the Indians, carried them away, and cast them 
into a species of frenzy. They almost regarded Nocobotha as a genius 
of a superior essence to their own, and bowed the knee to worship him, 
so straight had he gone to their hearts. For a long time the council 
was affected by a species of delirium. When, however, tranquillity was 
restored, the wisest among the ulmens discussed the opportunity of 
taking up arms, and in the end the opinion was in favour of a general 
insurrection. The ranks, momentarily broken, were restored, and 
Lucaney spoke as follows — 

“ This seventeenth day of the moon of Kekil-kiven it has been resolved 
by all the chiefs, each representing a nation or a tribe, assembled round 
the council-fire in front of the sacred tree of Gualichu, and after the 
performance of the sacred rites to render the spirits favourable to us, 
that war is declared against the Spaniards. As the war is holy, and has 
liberty for its object, all will be expected to take part in it — men, women, 
and children ; all to the extent of their strength.” 

A long cry of enthusiasm cheered Lucaney, but he continued after a 
while — 

“ The chiefs, after careful consideration, have chosen as supreme 
toqui of all the nations, with uncontrolled and unlimited power, the 
wisest, the most prudent, to command us. This warrior is the chief of 
the Aucas, whose race is so ancient, Nocobotha, the son of the sun.” 

A thunder of applause greeted these last words. Nocobotha walked 
into the centre of the circle, bowed to the ulmens, and said, in a proud 
accent, “ I accept. Ulmens, my brothers, in a year you shall be free, or 
I shall be dead.” 

“ Long live the great toqui ! ” the crowd shouted. 

War to the whites ! ” Nocobotha continued ; “ a war without mercy. 
Remember the law of the pampas ; ‘ An eye for an eye, and a tooth for 
a tooth.’ Each chief will send the quipus to his nation, for at the end 
of this moon we will rouse our enemies -by a thunder-clap. Go, and 
lose no time,” 


The Cougars. 


33 


The ulmens bowed without replying, rejoined the escort, anjd soon 
disappeared in a cloud of dust. 

Nocobotha and Pincheira remained alone, a detachment guarding 
them a little distance away. 

“ Well,” said Pincheira, “ we have succeeded.” 

“ Yes,” he answered ; “ war is declared, and I am the supreme chief ; 
but I hesitate. Do those primitive men thoroughly understand ? Are 
they ripe for liberty ? ” 

“ You startle me, friend. What, then, are your plans P ” 

“ It is true, you know nothing, but you are worthy of such an enter- 
prise. I wish ” 

At this moment an Indian, whose horse, reeking with perspiration, 
seemed to breathe fire through its nostrils, came up to the two ulmens, 
before whom he stopped, and, as if converted into a granite statue, bent 
down to Nocobotha’s ear. 

” Already ! ” the latter exclaimed. “ Oh, there is not a moment to 
lose. Quick, my horse.” 

“ What is the matter ? ” Pincheira asked him. 

“ Nothing that can interest you. To-night, at the pass of the Guanaco 
you shall know all.” 

Nocobotha’s horse snorted and dashed off like an arrow from a bow. 

Ten minutes later all had disappeared, and solitude and silenct 
reigned round the tree. 


CHAPTER VIL 

THE COUGARS. 

“Thanks, Bias, my friend,” Don Valentine said, after a conversation 
which was prolonged far into the night ; “ that Don Torribio Carvajal 
never pleased either my daughter or myself.” 

“ What do you intend doing ? ” the other asked. 

“ I am greatly embarrassed : how can I close my doors against him 
what pretext should I have ? ” 

“ Well I ” Bias said, “ perhaps we are alarming ourselves too sooa 
This gentleman is doubtless no more or less than a lover. You do not 
like him as son-in-law ; but love, they say, is a strange thing, and some 
day or other ” 

“ I have designs for my daughter.” 

“ As you will. By the way, may not this mysterious Caballero be • 
secret agent of General Oribe P ” 


9 


34 


The Last of the Aucas, 


That is the truth, I believe. His hints to the gauchos, his unexpected 
absences, whose purpose is unknown, are simply of a political nature; 
and Don Torribio is a conspirator.” 

" Nothing else. But be on your guard.” 

“ In the expectation of General Oribe making an attack, let us make 
ourselves secure. The estancia is close to Fort San Jose and the sea ; 
we will await the issue of these machinations there in great security, 
because a vessel, anchored opposite the estancia, will be at my disposal, 
and on the slightest alarm convey us away.” 

“ True ; and in the country you will not be annoyed by Don Torribio’s 
visits.” 

“ Caramba ! you are right ; and I will proceed to give orders for de- 
parture. Do not go away, for I want your assistance.” 

Don Valentine now aroused the servants and peons ; and the valuables 
^ere at once packed up. 

At the first gleam of dawn Dona Concha was greatly surprised, when 
her lady’s-maid, a young mulatto girl, informed her of her father’s sud- 
den resolution. 

At about eight in the morning Bias Sallazar, whom his foster-brother 
had sent with a letter to the captain of the schooner moored off Carmen, 
returned to the house, and stated that the captain would sail at once. 

The courtyard of the house resembled a hostelry. Fifteen mules, 
loaded with bales, stamped in their impatience to be off, while the travel- 
ling-litter was being prepared for Dona Concha. Forty saddle-horses 
were fastened to iron rings ; four or five mules were prepared to carry 
the young lady’s female attendants, while two negros held two splendid 
chargers, which stamped and champed their silver bits while awaiting 
their riders. There was a deafening confusion of shouts, laughter, and 
kicking. In the street, a crowd, among whom were Corrocho and Pan- 
chito, curiously watched their departure. 

At last, at about half-past eight o’clock, the arrieros placed themselves 
at the head of their mules ; the servants, armed to the teeth, mounted, 
and Dona Concha, dressed in a charming travelling-costume, walked 
down the steps, and, with a merry laugh, bounded into her litter. 

At a sign from the capataz the mules started. Don Valentine then 
turned to an old negro, who was standing respectfully near him, hat in 
ha'nd. 

“ Good-bye, tio Peralta,” he said to him “ I give you charge of the 
house.” 

“ Your excellency can reckon on my vigilance,” the old man answered; 
may God bless your excellency, and the nina too ! ” 

“ Thank you, tio Peralta,” the young lady said. 

The night storm had completely swept the sky, which was of a pale 
blue ; the sun, already high on the horizon, spread profusely its warm 
beams, which were filtered through the fragrant vapours that rose from 
the ground. The atmosphere was wondrously transparent, a slight 
breeze refreshed the air, and swarms of birds, glistening with a thousand 
hues, dashed about. The mules, which followed the bell of the ye^ua 
madrina^ trotted to the songs of the arrieros. The caravan marched 


The Cougars. 


35 


gaily across the sandy desert, raising the dust around it, and undulating 
like a long serpent, in the endless windings of the road. 

The white houses of Carmen had disappeared long ago when the 
capataz, leaving the head of the party, galloped up to the head of the 
litter. 

“ What is the matter? ” Don Valentine asked. 

“ Nothing much,” Bias replied; “ still, excellency, look,” he added, 

** It is a fire.” 

“ Turn your eyes to the east-south -east.” 

“ That is another fire. Who the deuce has lighted fires on those 
scarped points, and for what object 

“ As a fire does not light itself, as w© have some i20® of heat, and 
as ” 

“You conclude — ” 

“ I conclude that these fires are signals.” 

“ Stay, stay : that is logical, my friend, and you may be right, perhaps; 
but what do we care ? ” 

“ Those signals tell that Don Valentine Cardoso and his daughter hav© 
left Carmen.” 

“ But I do not care about Don Torribio knowing of my departure,” 

A sudden cry was heard, and the mules stopped. 

“ What is going on down there ? ” Bias asked. 

“ A cougar, a cougar ! ” the arrieros shouted. 

“ Canario, it is true,” the capataz said. 

About two hundred yards ahead of the caravan two cougars were 
drawn up ready for a spring, with their eyes fixed on the mules. They 
were about the size of a calf ; the head bore a great likeness to that of 
a cat, and their skins, smooth and soft, were of a silvery tawny hue^ 
spotted with black. 

“ Come on,” Don Valentine exclaimed, “ uncouple the dogs, and let U3 
have a hunt.” 

“ A hunt ! ” the capataz repeated. 

A dozen mastiffs were unloosed, which, on approaching the animals, 
barked simultaneously. The mules were collected and formed into a 
large circle, in the centre of which the litter was placed. Ten servants 
were told off to guard the Dona, and Don Valentine remained by her 
side. 

Horses, riders, and dogs rushed in rivalry on the ferocious animals 
with yells, shouts, and barking. The noble beasts lashed their flanks 
with their powerful tails, and then fled. Some of the hunters rode off to 
cut off their retreat, while others bending, over the saddle and guiding 
their horses with their knees, brandished their terrible bolas, and pursued 
them with all their strength, though without checking the cougars, 
which turned furiously on the dogs, and hurled them a dozen yards off, 
yelling with pain. The mastiffs, however, long accustomed to this style 
of hunting, watched for a favourable opportunity, threw themselves on 
the lions’ backs, and dug their teeth into their flesh ; but the cougars, 
with one blow of their murderous paw, swept them off like flies, and «> 
sumed their hurried course. 


The Last of the Aucas^ 




At last one of them, hobbled by the bolaSj and surrounded by dogs, 
^lled on the ground, digging up the sand with its quivering claws, and 
uttering a fearful yell. Don Valentine finished it by putting a bullet in 
Its eye. 

The second remained still unwounded, and by its furious leaps foiled 
the attack and skill of the hunters. The dogs, worn out, did not dare 
approach it. Its flight had brought it within a few paces of the caravan. 
All at once it turned to the right, bounded over the mules, and crouched 
right in front of the litter. Dona Concha, pale as death, with closed 
eyes, instinctively clasped her hands, and fainted. 

At this moment two shots struck it right in the chest. It turned round 
on its new adversary — no other than the worthy capataz, who, his eye 
fixed on the lion, awaited the monster. The cougar hesitated, took a 
parting glance at its prey still lying in the litter, and rushed with a roaf 
on Bias, who pulled the trigger again. The animal writhed on the 
ground, and the capataz ran up to it, machete in hand. The man 
and the lion rolled together, but only one of them rose — it was the 
man. 

Dona Concha was saved. Her father pressed her joyously to his 
breast ; she opened her eyes at last, and held out her hand to Don Bias. 

** I can no longer count the number of times you have saved the lives 
of my father and myself.” 

“ Oh, senorita 1 ” the worthy man said, as he kissed the tips of her 
fingers. 

“ You are my foster-brother, and I can only discharge my debt to you 
by eternal gratitude,” Don Valentine said. “ Strip the lions of their 
skins, my men,” he said, turning to the servants. 

No one equals the Hispano-Americans in the art of flaying animals ; 
in a minute the two lions, above which the urubus and vultures of the 
Andes were already hovering, were stripped of their skins. 

Order was restored in the caravan, which started again, and within an 
hour reached the Estancia of San Julian. 


CHAPTER VIIL 

THE ESTANCIA OF SAN JULIAN. 

The bomberos, accompanied by Mercedes, buried themselves !b the 
desert. Their journey lasted four hours, and brought them to the banks 
of the Rio Negro, to one of the charming oases created by the diver*mud| 


The Estancia of San Julian^ 


37 


and covered by clumps of willows, nopals, palms, chirimojas, lemon- 
trees, and flowering jessamines. 

Pedrito seized Mercedes in his robust arms, lifted her from the front 
of his saddle, and laid her gently on the turf. The horses began quietly 
nibbling the young tree-shoots. 

** Tell us how you found our sister,” Juan eaid. 

The cider brother, as if he had not heard, made no reply, and with his 
eyes fixed on the girl, listened to a voice that spoke within him ; he 
fancied he saw again the living portrait of his mother, and said to him- 
self, “ The same look, the same emile. Poor mother, poor sister I Mer- 
cedes,” he added, in a louder voice, “ do you remember your grown -up 
brothers, who loved you so dearly ? ” 

“ Come, come,” Pepe exclaimed, stamping his foot, “ that is not fair, 
brother ; you keep our bills ia the water like a lot of ducks, and mono- 
polise the girl’s kind looks. Jf she is really our regretted Mercedes, 
speak. We have as much right to embrace her as you have.” 

“You are right,” Pedrito answered ; “forgive me, brothers. It is our 
dear little sister — embrace her.” 

The bomberos did not wait for the invitation to be repeated, and with- 
out asking the slightest explanation from Pedrito, disputed with each 
other as to who should devour her with caresses. The maiden, who was 
deeply affected, and whom the Indians had not accustomed to such 
happiness, yielded to the intoxication of joy. While they were indulging 
in these transports, Pedrito had lit a fire and prepared a substantial 
meal, composed of fruit and a leg of guanaco. They sat down and ate 
with good appetites. Pedrito recounted his adventures at the tree of 
Gualichu. His story occupied a long time, for it was at times interrupted 
by the young men, who laughed most heartily at the tragic-comical 
incidents. 

“ Do you know,” Lopez said to him, “ that you have been a god ? ” 

“ A god who ran a greater risk of becoming immortal than he cared 
for,” Pedrito replied ; “ for I feel that I love life since I have found the 
child again. Well, here she is, and he will be a clever fellow who takes 
her from us. Still, we cannot let her share our precarious existence. ” 

“ That is true,” the other brothers said. 

“ What is to be done ? ” Pepe muttered, sadly. 

“ Our poor sister would die,” said Pedrito ; “ we cannot make a 
female bombero of her.” 

“ I could do anything for you, my kind*brothers.” 

“ Our life is at the mercy of an Indian bullet. The fear that you may 
fall again into the hands of the Aucas or the Puelches troubles me ; and 
if you remained with us and shared our dangers, I should turn a 
coward.” 

“ During the ten years we have been prowling about the pampas,” 
Pepe remarked, “ we have broken with all our old acquaintance.” 

“ I have an idea,” observed Lopez. 

“ Out with it.” 

“ You remember the capataz of the Estancia de San Julian. What ts 
feis name ? ” 


38 


The Last of the Aucas, 


“ Don Bias Sallazar.” 

“ The very man,” Lopez continued; “ I fancy we have saved his life 
and his master’s ere now, and that both owe us a candle as thick as my 
arm in gratitude.” 

“ Don Valentine and his capataz,” Juan said, “ would have lost theif 
skins to that demon of a Pincheira had it not been for our rifles.” 

“ That is our affair. Lopez is right.” 

“ Don Valentine passes for a good-hearted man.” 

“ He has, I think, a daughter whom he tenderly loves, and will under- 
stand the difficulty.” 

“ Blit we cannot go to Carmen,” said Pepe. 

“ Let us ride to the estancia, then ; it will only take us a couple of 
hours.” 

“ We will be off,” said Pedrito ; *‘Juan and Lopez will remain here, 
while Pepe and I escort the chica. Kiss your brothers, Mercedes. Now 
then, Pepe ; you two keep good watch.” 

Mercedes waved a parting farewell to her brothers, and, escorted by 
Pepe and Pedro, started at a gallop for San Julian. 

At about three o’clock they perceived, fifty yards from them, the estan- 
cia which Don Valentine and his daughter had reached hardly two hours 
before. 

The Estancia of San Julian, undoubtedly the richest and strongest 
position on the coast, stood on a peninsula six miles in circumference, 
covered with wood and pastures, on which upwards of two thousand 
head of cattle grazed at liberty. Partially surrounded^ by the sea, which 
formed a natural fortification, the strip of land, twenty feet in width at 
the most, was guarded by a battery of five guns. The house, which was 
surrounded by lofty parapetted and bastioned walls, was a fortress, cap- 
able of sustaining a regular siege, thanks to eight guns, which defended 
the approaches. It was composed of a large main building, with a ter- 
raced roof, having ten windows on the frontage, and with two wings. A 
large flight of steps, protected by a balustrade, protected by a verandah, 
gave access to the rooms, which were furnished with the simple and pic- 
turesque luxury peculiar to the Spanish farms of America. 

Between the house and the wall, in which there was, opposite the 
steps, a cedar gate five inches thick, and lined with strong iron plates, 
extended a large English garden, well wooded, and beautifully laid out. 
The space left free behind the.farm was occupied by the corrals in which 
the cattle were shut up at night. 

The house was gay and pleasant, and could be seen for some distance 
off, half hidden by foliage. From the first floor windows there was a 
view on one side of the sea, on the other of the Rio Negro, which ran 
through the plain like a silver thread, and was lost in the azure distance 
of the horizon. 

Ever since the last war with the Indians a mirador had been built on 
the roof of the main building, where a sentry stood day and night to 
watch and announce upon a buff^gj^born the approach of strangers. In 
addition, the isthmus battery wa‘s guarded by six men. When the bom- 
beros, therefore, were still some distance from the estancia^ their coming 


The Estancia of San Julian. 


39 


had beeh signalled, and Don Bias SalTazar, accompanied by Patito, was 
standing behind the battery to challenge them. 

The bomberos were aware of the orders, a&d on ooming within twenty 
paces of the battery stopped arid waited, 

“ Who goes there ? ” a voice shouted. 

“ Friends,” Pedrito answered. 

Who are you ? ” 

“ Bomberos.” 

“ Good ; what do you want ? ” 

“To speak to the senor capataz, Don Bias Sallazar.’’ 

“ Why,” Bias himself exclairhed, “ it is Pedrito.” 

“ Yes, yes, Don Bias,” Pedrito said ; “ and this is my brother Pepe, at 
your service.” 

“ As be has been before, Don Bias, by your leave,” Pepe said, in* 
sinuatingly. 

“ That is true ; lower the drawbridge.” 

The bOmbeiros entered, and the bridge was immediately pulled up after 
them. 

“ Carai ! what a pleasant surprise, 'my friends 1 ” the capataz said ; “ we 
see you most remarkably seldom. Come to my house, and you can then 
tell me what brings you here. It must be a serious matter, if I know 
you.” 

“Very serious indeed,” Pedrito answered. 

The capataz mounted his horse arid drew up alongside Pedrito. 

“ May I ask, caballero, without indiscretion, who that girl dressed in 
the Indian fashion is ? She is white, is she not P ” 

“ She is our sister, capataz.” 

“ I was not aware you bad a sister, so forgive me, for I am not a sor- 
cerer.” 

The horsemen had arrived at their destination. The capataz dis- 
mounted, the borriberos followed his example, and followed him into a 
spacious ground-floor room, where an elderly, healthy-loOking woman 
was busy peeling Indian corn. It was Don Bias’s mother, arid Dori 
Valentine’s nurse. She greeted the new-comers with a good-humoured 
smile, offered therii seats, and went to fetch a jug of chica, which she 
placed before them. 

“To your health, senores,” said the capataz, after filling the Cups to 
the briih. “ The sun is confoundedly hot, and you will find this refresh- 
mg.” 

“ Thanks,” said Pedrito, who at oricC emptied his glasg. 

“ Come, what have you to tell me ? Speak freely, unless,” Bias 
added, “ my mother is in your way.” 

“ No,” Pedro said, eagerly ; “ no, let the senora remain, for what we 
have to Say everybody may hear, and especially your mother we have 
come to speak of our sister.” 

“ I do not Wish to offerid you, Don Pedrio,” the capataz interrupted 
him, “ but you did wrong in keeping the young lady with you, for sh^ 
cannot share all the perils of your life ; can she, mother^ ” 

The old lady gave a nod of assent. 


40 


The Last of the Aucas, 


** You can do what you please, of course,” Don Bias continued ; 
** everybody is at liberty to arrange his life as he pleases, provided that 
it be honestly.” 

“ Your remark, Don Bias,” Pedrito said, “ overwhelms us with joy> 

And without further delay he told Mercedes’ story. Towards its close 
the Dona left the room. 

“You are a worthy man, Don Pedro,” Don Bias exclaimed. “Yes, 
deuce take me if you are not. You have judged me rightly, and 1 thank 
you for thinking of me.” 

“ Then you consent ?” Pepe asked. 

“ One moment,” the capataz said, as he filled the glasses again. “ Here S 
to your health, and that of the senorita. I am only a poor fellow, and a 
bachelor, hence my protection would compromise a young lady’s reputa- 
tion. Senores, a girl’s reputation is like an egg; once cracked, it can- 
not be mended. You understand ? ” 

“ What is to be done ? ” Pedro muttered. 

“ Patience, compadre ! I am nothing myself, but Don Valentine 
Cardoso, my master, is kind ; he is fond of me, and has a charming 
daughter ; I will plead your sister’s cause to him.” 

“ The cause is already gained, my friend,” said Don Valentine, who 
entered with Dona Concha. 

Pepe and Pedrito knew not how to express their gratitude to Senor 
Cardoso. 

“ My friends,” the latter said, ** I am only too happy to discharge my 
debt to you. We have an old account outstanding between us. If my 
daughter still has a father, she owes it to you.” 

“ Oh, senor 1 ” the two young men protested. 

“ My daughter, Conchita, will have a sister, and I two daughters 
instead of one. Do you wish it so, Conchita ? ” 

“ I thank you, father,” as she repeatedly kissed Mercedes. “ My dear 
girl,” she added, “ kiss your brothers, and follow me to my apartments ; 
I will give you such articles of clothing as you require, and enable you 
to get rid of this heathen costume.” 

Mercedes threw herself into her brotjiers’ arms with tears. 

“ Come, come, little maid,” Dona Concha said, “ do not cry ; you will 
see them again ; wipe your eyes, for I mean you to be happy. Come, 
smile at once, my darling, and follow me.” 

The sentinel’s horn at this moment announced that a stranger was 
asking admission to the estancia. 

“Thanks, once again, Don Valentine,” Pedrito said; “we go away 
with minds at rest.” 

“ Good-bye, till we meet again, my friends.” 

Pedrito and Pepe, light both in body and mind, left the estancia, 
and passed a horseman who came up the steps at a sharp 
trot. 

“ Where have I seen that man ? ” said Pedrito. “ 1 feel certain I have 
met him before.” 

“ Do you know Don Torribio Carvajal ? ” the capataz asked. 

“ 1 am not aware, if that is the caballero’s name, who he is, or where I 


Don Sylvio d^ArenaL 


41 


have seen him ; still, I am certain that we met a very little while 
ago.” 

“Good-bye, Don Bias, and thank you,” the bomberos said, as 'they 
shook his hand* 


CHAPTER IX. 

DON SYLVIO d’aRENAL. 

An hour before the bomberos’ arrival at the estancia a visitor had pre- 
sented himself who was eagerly greeted by Don Valentine. This visitor, 
about eight-and-twenty years of age, and elegantly built, possessed the 
manners of a man of distinction, and a handsome face. His name was 
Don Sylvio d’Afenal, and he belonged to one of the richest and most 
respected families in Buenos Ayres. His income was about one hundred 
thousand a-year. 

The family of Don Sylvio and Don Valentine had ever lived on a 
footing of the greatest intimacy. The young man and the young lady 
were educated together, and hence, when her handsome cousin came to 
say good-bye to her, and told her of his departure for Europe, where he 
was to travel for some years and assume elegant manners. Dona Concha, 
who was at that time twelve years of age, felt a great vexation. Since 
their childhood, unconsciously, they loved. 

Sylvio went away, bearing his love with him. 

Only a few days previously the young man had returned, and, freight- 
ing a schooner, had set sail for Carmen, burning with desire to see again 
the woman he loved, and whom he had not seen for three years. 

At Carmen he found Don Valentine’s house empty, and from the in- 
formation he received from the old negro rode at a gallop to the estancia 
of San Julian. The surprise and joy of Don Valentine and his daughter 
were extreme. Conchita was especially happy, for she thought daily of 
Sylvio, and saw him through her recollections, but at the same time she 
felt in her heart an emotion of mingled pleasure and sorrow. 

“ Come, come, children,” the father said, with a smile, “ kiss eacll 
other ; I permit it.” 

Dona Concha offered Don Sylvia her blushing forehead, which he 
respectfully touched with his lips. 

“ Children,” the worthy man continued, “ the Rubicon is passed; indulge 
your joy at meeting after so lengthened a separatioa. It is the last| for 
you have met again for ever.” 

“ Oh, for ever I ” the young people repeated. 


4 ® 


The Last of the Aucas. 


Let us kill the fatted calf. Don Sylvio, you will remain here until 
you are married. Does that suit you ? ” 

“ Yes,” said Sylvio, looking at Conchita, on condition that it is soon, 
father.” 

“ That’s the way with lovers ; they are always eager and impatient. 
Every one in his turn ; I was once as happy.” 

One of those sweet and intimate conversations then began, in which 
the recollections of the past and the certainty of speedy happiness were 
blended. They were interrupted by Dona Sallazar entering the room. 
Don Sylvio proceeded to his apartment, while Concha and her father 
followed the old lady to the bomberos. 

Don Valentine, surprised and irritated by the unexpected arrival of 
Don Torribio Carvajal, resolved to get rid of him. 

“ You did not expect me so soon ? ” Don Torribio said. 

I did not expect you at all ; the less so because you spoke only 
yesterda y, if I have a good memory, of a journey.” 

“That is true,” he said, with a smile ; “but who knows to-day what 
w lltake place to-morrow ? You did not dream yesterda y of leaving El 
Carmen.” 

“ Well, as you know, we estancieros are often compelled to go to our 
estates suddenly.” 

“ The same thing happens to me. I am, like you, compelled to live 
as a country gentleman for some time.” 

“ Then you are living at your estancia ? ” 

“Yes, we are neighbours, and you will be condemned to my presence, 
unless ” 

“ You will always be welcome.” 

“ You are very polite,” said Don Torribio. 

“ I am afraid, though, that I shall not long enjoy the pleasure of being 
your neighbour.” 

“ Why so ? ” 

“ !t is possible that I may return to Carmen within a week.” 

“ Then you have only paid a passing visit here ? ” 

“ Not exactly. I had intended to remain here some months, but, as 
you said just now, who knows what the morrow will bring forth ?” 

The two speakers were feeling each other’s strength by quickly-parried 
feints. 

“ May I be allowed to pay my respects to Madame Concha ? ” Don 
Torribio asked. 

“ She will soon be here. By the way, we have just taken charge of a 
girl of rare beauty, who has been two years a slave of the Indians, and 
whom her brothers brought to me scarce an hour ago, after having 
miraculously saved her from the hands of the pagans.” 

“ Ahl ” Torribio said, in a choking voice. ^ 

“Yes,” Don Valentine continued, “ her name is Mercedes, I believe: 
«he appears very gentle. My daughter is wild about her already, and at 
this moment she is taking off her Indian clothes, and clothing her in a 
decent fashion.” 

** Very good; but are you sure that this woman is what she seems 


Don Sijlvio (T At enaL 


43 


be ? The Indians are villains, as you are aware, and this Mercedes is 
perhaps an Indian spy." 

“You are rhistaken, Don Torribio, I can trust the men who brought 
her to me.” 

“ Watch her; take my advice.” 

But she is a Spaniard.” 

“ That proves nothing. Look at Pincheira ; Is he not an ex-officer of 
the army f He is now a chief of one of the principal Indian nations, and 
the most cruel adversary of the Spaniards.” 

“ Pincheira, that is different ! ” 

“As you please,” said Don Torribio. 

As Don Torribio uttered these words Dona Concha appeared, accom- 
panied by Don Sylvio. 

“ Don Torribio,” said the estanciero, “ I have the honour to present 
to you Don Sylvio d’Arenal.” 

“ I believe,” said Don Torribio, “ that I have already had the honour 
of meeting this gentleman in Paris.” 

“Your memory is faithful, sir,” DOn Sylvio replied; “we met at the 
house of the Marchioness de Lucenay.” 

“ I was not aware of your return to America.” 

“ I only reached home a few days ago ; this morning I was at Carmen, 
and now I am here.” 

“ Already here ! ” Don Torribio cried. 

“ Oh,” Concha’s father said, “ this rather hasty visit was so naturail 
that my daughter and I heartily pardoned Don Sylvio.” 

“ Ah ! ” Don Torribio muttered, to say something, fot he understood 
that he had a rival before him. 

Dona Concha anxiously followed the conversation, playing with a fan 
that trembled in her hand. 

“I hope, sir,” Don Torribio said, courteously, “that we shall renew 
here the imperfect friendship commenced in Madame de Lucenay’s 
salons^ 

“ Unluckily,” Don Valentine interrupted, in order to prevent Don 
Sylvio answering, “ Senor d’Arenal will be unable to accept your kind 
invitation, for immediately after his marriage he intends to travel with 
his wife.” 

“ His marriage ! ” Don Torribio said. 

“ Were you ignorant of it? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ What a careless fellow I am ! but we have no secrets from you. Don 
Sylvio d’Arenal is about to marrv mv daughter ; the match has been 
arranged for a very long time.” 

Don Torribio turned pale ; a mist passed before his eyes ; he felt a 
deadly agony in his heart, and thought he was going to die. Dona 
Concha curiously followed his secret thoughts upon his face; but, feeling 
that all eyes were fixed upon him, the young man made a superhuman 
effort. 

“ May you be as happy, senorita, as I wish you,” he said, 

** I thank you, sir,” Dona Concha answered. 


44 


The Last of the Aucas. 


“As for you, Senor d’Arenal, your happiness will make any man 
jealous ; for you are taking away our most precious pearl.” 

“ I will strive, senor, to be worthy of her ; for I love her so dearly.^ 

“ They love one another so dearly,” the father said, with cruel sim. 
plicity. 

The young lovers exchanged a glance full of hope and happiness. 
Neither Don Valentine’s last remark, nor the look of the betrothed 
couple was left unnoticed by Don Torribio, who concealed his grief 
beneath a smile. 

“ By Jove, neighbour,” the father continued, “you will be present at 
the festival of betrothal ? ” 

“ Impossible, senor ; important business calls me to my estancia, and, 
to my great regret, I must leave you.” 

“ Still, if my daughter joined with me ” 

“ If I,” Don Sylvio said, “ dared ” 

“ On my honour, I must be gone. The sacrifice I make at this 
moment is the more painful to me,” he added, with a sardonic smile, 
“ because happiness generally flies so fast that it is impossible to catch it 
up.” 

“ I fear no misfortune now,” said Dona Concha, looking at Don 
Sylvio. 

Carvajal replied with a shake of the head. 

“ I trust you are saying the truth, senorita but there is a French pro- 
verb — ” 

“ What is it ? ” 

“ ‘ Twixt cup and lip there’s many a slip.”* 

“ Oh ! the ugly proverb,” Conchita exclaimed. 

Don Torribio, without adding a word, bowed and left the room* 

“ Well, my friend,” the estanciero said, “ what do you think of that 
man P ” 

“ His words are bitter ; I know not why, but I feel sure he hates me,” 
“ I hate him, too,” said Concha, with a shudder. 

“ Perhaps he loved you, Conchita ; for is it possible to see and not love 
you ? ” 

“ Who assures you that he is not meditating a crime ? ” 

•* This time, senorita, you are going too far j he is a gentleman** 

• Quien sabe t ” she replied. 


CHAPTER X. 

THE VIRGIN FOREST, 

On leaving the estancia of San Julian, Don Torribio Carvajal was • 
prey to one of those cold, concentrated passions, which slowly collect in 
the mind and at length burst forth with terrible force. His spurs lace- 
rated the sides of his horse, and it doubled its furious speed. 

Where was Don Torribio Carvajal going in this way ? He did not 
know himself. He saw nothing, heard nothing. This state of over- 
excitement lasted some hours, during which his horse devoured space. 
At length the noble steed, utterly exhausted, dropped on its trembling 
knees, and fell on the sand. 

Don Torribio rose and looked wildly around him. 

Night had set in, thick darkness covered the landscape, and a mourn- 
ful silence prevailed in the desert where chance had carried him. 

“ Where am I ? ” he said, as he tried to discover his whereabouts. 

Don Torribio’s eyes sought in vain to pierce the obscurity. He went 
up to his horse, which was lying on the ground and panting heavily ; 
moved with pity for the companion of his adventurous journeys, he bent 
over it, placed in his waist-belt the pistols that were in the holsters, and, 
unfastening a gourd of rum, began washing the eyes, ears, nostrils, and 
mouth of the poor beast, whose sides quivered. Half an hour passed in 
this way ; the horse, somewhat refreshed, had got on its legs, and, with 
the instinct that distinguishes the race, had discovered a spring close by, 
where it quenched its thirst. 

“ All is not lost yet,” Don Torribio muttered, “ and perhaps I shall 
soon succeed in getting out of this place, for my friends are waiting for 
me, and I must join them.” 

But a deep roar broke forth a short distance awa^, repeated almost 
immediately from four different quarters. The horse’s hair stood on end 
with terror. Even Don Torribio trembled. 

“ Malediction 1 ” he exclaimed ; “ I am at a watering-place of the 
cougars.” 

At this moment he saw, about ten paces from him, two eyes that 
shone like live coals, and looked at him with strange fixedness. 

Don Torribio was a man of tried courage, audacious, and even rash on 
occasions; but alone in the gloomy solitude in the midst of the black 
night, surrounded by ferocious beasts, he felt fear assail him against his 
will ; he breathed with difficulty ; his teeth were clenched, an icy perspi- 
ration poured down his whole person, and he was on the point of abandon- 
ing himself to his fate. This sudden discouragement disappeared before 


4<5 


The Last af the Aucas, 


a powerful will, and Don Torribio, sustained by the instinct of self-pre- 
servation, and that hope which springs eternal in the human breast, 
prepared for an unequal struggle. 

The horse burst into a snort of terror and ran olf. 

“ All the better,” its rider thought ; “ perhaps it will escape.” 

A frightful concert of howls and roars broke out on all sides at the 
sound of the horse’s flight, and huge shadows bounded along past Don 
Torribio. A violent blast swept the sky, and the moon lit up the desert 
with its mournful, sickly rays. 

Not far off the Rio Negro ran between two scarped banks, and Don 
Torribio saw all around him the compact masses of a virgin forest, an 
inextricable chaos of rocks piled up pell-mell, and of fissures out of which 
clumps of trees grew. Here and there creepers were intertwined, 
describing the wildest curves, and only stopped their ramifications at the 
river. The soil, composed of sand and that detritus which abounds in 
American forests, gave way beneath the foot. 

Don Torribio now discovered where he was. He was more than 
fifteen leagues from any habitation, on the outskirts of an immense 
forest, the only one in Patagonia which no ranger had as yet been bold 
enough to explore, such horror and mystery did its gloomy depths 
appear to reveal. Near the forest a limpid stream burst through the 
rocks, whose banks were trampled by numerous traces of ihe claws of 
wild beasts. This stream served them, in fact, as a watering-place when 
they left their dens after sunset, and went in search of food and drink. 
As a living testimony of this supposition two magnificent cougars, male 
and female, were standing on the bank, and watching with anxious eyes 
the sporting of their cubs. 

“ Hum,” said Don Torribio, “ these are dangerous neighbours.” 

And he mechanically turned his eyes away. A panther, stretched out 
on a rock in the position of a watchful cat, fixed its inflamed eyes upon 
him. Torribio, who was well armed according to the American fashion, 
had a rifle of wondrous accuracy, which he had leant against a rock 
close to him. 

“ Good,” he said, “ it will be a tough fight at any rate. 

He raised his gun, but at the moment when he was about to fire, a 
plaintive mewling made him raise his head. A dozen wild cats of great 
size, perched on branches of trees, were looking down at him, while 
several wolves were crouching in front of him. 

A number of vultures, urubus, and caracacas, with half-closed eyes, 
were seated on the surrounding rocks, apparently awaiting the hour for 
their meal. 

Don Torribio jumped up on a rock, and then by the help of his hands 
and knees, gained, after extraordinary difficulties, a sort of natural ter- 
race, situated about twenty feet above the ground. The frightful con- 
cert formed by the denizens of the forest, whom the subtlety of their 
scent attracted one after the other, increased more and more, and over- 
powered the very sound of the wind which raged in the ravines and 
forest clearings. The moon was once more hidden behind clouds, and 
Don Torribio found himself again in darkness ; but if he could not diS® 


The Virgin ToresL 


47 


tinguish the wild beasts near him, he guessed and almost smelt their 
presence ; he saw their eyeballs flashing in the gloom, and heard their 
roars constantly coming nearer. 

He set his feet firmly on the ground and cocked his revolver. Four 
shots were followed by four howls of pain, and the noise produced by 
oranch after branch in the fall of the wounded wild cats. This attack 
aroused a sinister uproar. The red wolves rushed with yells on the vic- 
tims, for which they contended with the urubus and vultures. A rustling 
in the leaves reached the ear of the brave hunter, and a mass it w;as im- 
possible clearly to distinguish cleft the space and lodged with a roar on 
the platform. With the butt of his rifle he struck out in the darkness, 
and the panther, with a broken skull, rolled to the base of the rock. He 
heard a monstrous battle, which the cougars and wild cats waged with 
the wounded panther, and, intoxicated by his triumph, and even by his 
danger, he fired two shots into the crowd of obstinate enemies snarling 
below him. Suddenly all these animals, ceasing their combat as if by 
common consent, united against the man, their common foe, and their 
rage was turned against the rock from the top of which Don Torribio 
appeared to defy them all. They climbed up the projections. The wild 
cats were the first to arrive, and as fast as Torribio felled them others 
leaped upon him. He felt his strength and energy gradually diminish- 
ing. 

This struggle of a single man against a multitude of ferocious brutes 
had something grand and poignant about it. Don Torribio, as if suffer- 
ing from a nightmare, struggled in vain against the swarm of assailants 
that were constantly reinforced. He felt on his face the warm, fetid 
breath of the wild cats and wolves, while the roars of the cougars and 
the mocking mewling of the panthers filled his ears with a frightful 
melody that gave him a vertigo. Hundreds of eyes sparkled in the 
shade, and at times the heavy wings of the vultures and urubus lashed 
his forehead, which was bathed in a cold perspiration. 

In him every feeling of self had died out. He no longer thought ; his 
life, so to speak, had become entirely physical. His movements were 
mechanical, and his arms rose and fell to strike with the rigid regularity 
of a pendulurn. 

Already several claws had been buried deep in his flesh. Wild cats 
had seized him by the throat, and he had been compelled to struggle 
with them to make them loose their hold ; his blood was flowing from 
twenty wounds, not mortal, it is true, but the hour was approaching 
beyond which human strength cannot go. Don Torribio would have 
fallen from his rock and perished under the teeth of the wild beasts. 

At this solemn moment, when all seemed to desert him, a loud cry 
burst from his bosom — a cry of agony and despair of indefinable expres- 
sion, which was echoed far and wide by the rocks. It was the last pro- 
test of the strong man who confesses himself vanquished, and who, 
before falling, calls his fellow-man to his aid, or implores the help o£ 
Heaven. 

He cried, and a cry responded to his. 

Don Torribio, amazed, and not daring to count on a 


48 


The Last of the Aucas, 


desert which no human being had ever penetrated, believed himself 
I under the impression of a dream or an hallucination ; still, collecting all 
his strength, and feeling hope rekindled in his soul, he uttered a second 
cry, louder and more ear-piercing than the first. 

“ Courage ! ” 

This time it was not echo that answered him. Courage 1 That one 
word reached him on the wings of the wind, though faint as a sigh. 
Like the giant Antaeus, Don Torribio, drawing himself up, seemed to re- 
gain strength and recover that life which was already slipping from him. 
He redoubled his blows at his innumerable enemies. 

Several horses were galloping in the distance ; shots lit up the dark- 
ness with their transient gleams, and men, or rather demons, dashed 
suddenly into the thick of the wild beasts, and produced a fearful car- 
nage. 

Suddenly Don Torribio, attacked by two tiger cats, rolled on the plat- 
form, struggling with them. 

The wild beasts had fled before the new-comers, who hastened to light 
fires to keep them at bay during the rest of the night. Two of these 
men, holding lighted torches, began seeking the hunter, whose cries of 
distress had besought their help. He was lying senseless on the plat- 
form, surrounded by ten or a dozen dead wild cats, and holding in his 
stiffened fingers the neck of a strangled pajiro. 

“ Well, Pepe,” a voice said, “ have you found him ? ” 

“Yes,” was the reply; “but he appears to be dead.” 

“Carai! that would be a pity,” Pedrito continued, “for he is a fine 
fellow. Where is he ? ” 

“ On this rock.” 

“ Can you bring him down with the help of Lopez P ” 

“ Nothing easier.” 

“ Make haste, in Heaven’s name ! ” Pedrito said. “ Each minute’s 
delay is, perhaps, a year’s life slipping from him.” 

Lopez and Pepe raised Don Torribio by the head and feet, and with 
infinite precautions transposed him from the improvised fortress where 
he had so long fought, and laid him on a bed of leaves Juan had got 
ready near one of the fires. 

“ Canario ! ” Pedrito exclaimed on seeing the gory man’s miserable 
appearance. “ Poor devil 1 how they have served him out ; it was high 
time to help him.” 

“ Do you think he will recover ? ” Lopez asked, eagerly. 

“ There is always hope,” Pedrito answered sententiously, “ where life is 
not extinct. Let us have a look at him.” 

He bent over the body, drew his glistening knife, and placed the blade 
between his lips. 

“ Not the slightest breath,” Pedrito said, shaking his head. 

“ Are his wounds serious ? ” Lopez asked. 

“ I do not think so. He has been worn out by fatigue and emotion, 
but he will soon open his eyes again, and in a quarter of an hour, if he 
think proper, he can get in the saddle again. It is surely he,” Pedrito 
added, in a low voice. 


The Virgin Forest, 


49 


“Whence comes your thoughtful air, brother ?” 

It is because this man, in spite of his European dress and thorough 
appearance of a white, resembles ” 

“ Whom ? ” 

“ The Indian chief with whom we fought at the tree of Gualichu, and 
to whom we owe Mercedes’ safety.” 

“ You must be mistaken.” 

“ Not the least in the world, brothers,” the eldest replied authorita- 
tively. “ When hidden in the trunk of the sacred tree, I had leisure to 
study his features, which have remained graven on my mind. Besides, 

I recognise him by this gash which I made on his face with my sabre," 

“ That is true,” the others said in surprise. 

What is to be done ? ” 

What is the meaning of this disguise ? ” 

Heaven alone knows,” Pedrito answered ; “ but he must be saved.^ 

The bomberos, like all woodrangers living far from the colony, are 
obliged to cure their own wounds, and hence acquire a certain practical 
knowledge of medicine through employing the remedies and simples in 
use among the Indians. 

Pedrito, assisted by Pepe and Juan, washed Don Torribio’s wounds 
with rum -and -water, moistened his temples, and puffed tobacco-smoke 
up his nostrils. The young man gave an almost insensible sigh, stirred 
slightly, and opened his eyes, which wandered round vacantly. 

“ He is saved ! ” said Pedrito ; “ now leave Nature to act, for she is the 
best physician I know.” 

Don Torribio raised himself on his elbow, passed his hand over his 
forehead as if to regain his memory and thought, and said in a weak 
voice — 

“ Who are you ? * 

“ Friends, sir — fear nothing.” 

“ I feel as if every bone in my body were broken." 

“ There is no danger, sir ; with the exception of the fatigue, you are 
as well as we are.” 

“ I hope so, my worthy friends ; but by whact miracle did you arrive in 
time to save me ? 

“Your horse performed this miracle; had it not, you were lost." 

“ How so ? ” Torribio asked, his voice growing gradually stronger, and 
already able to rise. 

“ This is how it was — we are bomberos ” 

The young man gave a sort of nervous start, which he suddenly 
checked. 

“ We are bomberos, and watch the Indians, especially at night. Acci- 
dent brought us to these parts. Your horse was flying with a pack of 
red wolves at his heels ; we freed it from these brutes ; then, as it 
seemed to us probable that a ready-saddled horse could hot be without 
an owner in this forest, where no one ventures, we set out in search of 
the rider. Your cry guided us.” 

“ How can I pay my debt to you P ” Torribio asked, offering his haud 
to Pedrito. 


The Last oj the Aucas, 


5 « 


** You owe us nothing, sir*,” 

, ‘‘ Why ? ” 

” Here is your horse, caballero.” 

“ But I should like to see you again,” he said, before starting. 

It is unnecessary ; you owe us nothing, I tell you,” said Pedrito, who 
held the horse by the bridle. 

“ What do you mean ? ” Don Torribio insisted. 

The bombero,” Pedrito replied, “ has paid to-day the debt contracted 
yesterday with Nocobotha the Ulmen of the Aucas.” 

Don Torribio’s face w.^s covered with a deadly pallor. 

“ We are quits, chief,” Pedrito continued, as he let go the bridle. 

When the rider had disappeared in the darkness, Pedrito turned to his 
brothers — 

“ I know not why it is,” he said, with a sigh of relief, “ but 1 feel 
happy at owing nothing to that man.” 


CHAPTER XL 

THE CHASE OF THE NANDUS. 

At the estancia of San Julian the hours passed away pleasantly in talk- 
ing and dreams of happiness, and Don Valentine shared the joy of his 
two children. Don Torribio, since the announcement of Dona Concha’s 
marriage had not be seen at San Julian or Carmen, to the great amaze- 
ment of everybody. Mercedes, gentle and simple, had become the 
friend, almost the sister, of Concha. The frank and pealing laugh of the 
girls cheered the echoes of the house, and caused the capataz to grow 
pensive, for at the sight of the bomberos’ sister, he had felt his heart 
turn towards her, like the heliotrope to the sun. Don Bias, resembling 
a soul in purgatory, prowled round Mercedes at a distance, to look at 
her unperceived. Everybody at the estancia had observed the worthy 
man’s distress, and he alone, in spite of his heavy sighs, did not know 
what it all meant. They ventured to ridicule him, though without 
wounding his feelings, and laugh at his singular ways. 

One fresh November morning, shortly after sunrise, there was a great 
commotion at the estancia of San Julian. Several horses, held by black 
slaves, were stamping impatiently at the foot of the steps ; servants 
were running backwards and forwards ; and Don Bias, dressed in his 
best clothes, was awaiting his master’s arrival. 

At length Don Valentine and Don Syl* io appeared, accompanied Dy 


The Chase of the Nandus. 




the two ladies. At the sight of Mercedes the capataz felt fire rise from 
his heart to his face ; he drew himself up, curled his moustache carefully, 
and gave his well-beloved a tender and respectful glance. 

“ Good day. Bias, my friend,” Don Valentine said to him cordially, 

1 fancy we shall have a fine day’s sport.” 

“ I think so too, excellency ; the weather is superb.” 

“ Have you chosen quiet horses for my daughter and her com- 
panion ? ” 

“ Oh, excellency,” the capataz answered, “ I lassoed them myself on 
the corral. I answer for them, or my head. They are real ladies’ 
horses — lambs.” 

“ We are easy in mind,” said Dona Concha, “ for we know that Don 
Bias spoils us.” 

“ Come, to horse, and let us start.” 

“ Yes, it is a long ride from here to the plain of the nandus ” (a species 
of the ostrich), said Bias, with an affectionate glance at Mercedes. 

The little party, composed of twenty well-armed men, proceeded to 
the battery, where Patito lowered the drawbridge. 

You must double your vigilance,” the capataz said to Patito. 

“ Don’t be alarmed, Senor Bias. Good luck to you and the honour- 
able company,” Patito added, waving his hat in the air. 

“ Raise the drawbridge, Patito.” 

Any one who gets into the estancia, capataz, will be sharper than 
you and I.” 

In Patagonia, at a short distance from the rivers, all plains are alike — 
sand, ever sand, and here and there stunted bushes. Such was the road 
to the plain of the nandus. 

Don Valentine had invited his future son-in-law to an ostrich-hunt, 
and, as may be supposed, Conchita wished to be one of the party. 

Ostrich-hunting is one of the great amusements of the Spaniards in 
Patagonia and the Argentine Republic, where those birds are found in 
great numbers. 

The ostrichs usually live in small families of eight or ten, scattered 
along the edges of marshes, pools, and lakes ; and they feed on fresh grass. 
Faithful to the native nook they never leave the vicinity of the water, 
and in the month of November they lay their eggs, which are frequently 
fifty to sixty in number, in the wildest part of the desert, and only sit 
on them at night. When incubation is over, the bird breaks with its 
beak the addled eggs, which are at once covered with flies and insects 
that serve as food for the young. 

A characteristic feature of the manners of the ostrich is their extreme 
curiosity. At the estancias, where they live in a domestic state, it is not 
uncommon to see them stalking about among the groups and looking at 
people who are conversing together. On the plains their curiosity is 
often fatal to them, for they come up without hesitation to investigate 
everything that appears to them strange. Here is a rather good Indian 
story referring to this. The cougars lie down on the ground, raise 
their tail in the air, and wave it in all directions. The ostriches, 
attracted by the sight of this strange object, come up in their sim- 


5 ^ 


The Last of the Aucas. 


pUcity ; the rest can be guessed — they become victims to the tricks of the 
cougars. 

The hunters, after a quick ride for nearly two hours, reached the plain 
of the nandus. The ladies dismounted on the bank of a stream, and 
four men, with their rifles on their hips, remained with them. The 
hunters then divided into two equal bands. The first, commanded by 
Don Valentine, entered the plain, forming a semicircle, so as to drive 
the game into a ravine situated between two sand ridges. The second 
band, having at its head Don Sylvio, formed a long line, which con- 
stituted the other moiety of the circle. This circle was gradually con- 
tracted by the advance of the horsemen, when a dozen ostriches showed 
themselves ; but the male bird, that stood as a sentry, warned the family 
of its danger, by a cry sharp as a boatswain’s whistle. 

All the hunters started after them at a gallop, and the hitherto silent 
plain became very animated. 

The horsemen pursued the luckless birds at the full speed of their 
steeds, and raised clouds of fine dust as they passed. 

Several families of ostriches had got up, and the chase soon grew 
most exciting. Yells and shouts were heard all around; the bolas 
whistled through the air, and twined round the necks and legs of the 
ostriches, which, wild with terror, made a thousand feints and turns to 
escape, and tried, by flapping their wings, to wound the horses with the 
spike with which the extremity of their wings is armed. 

Some fifteen ostriches strewed the plain when Don Valentine gave the 
signal to retreat. The birds which had not fallen hurried with wings 
and feet to a place of safety. The dead were carefully picked up, for 
the ostrich is excellent eating, and the Americans prepare from the meat 
off the breast a dish renowned for its delicacy. 

The peons went to look for the eggs, which are also highly es- 
teemed. 

Although the hunt had only lasted an hour, the horses were panting ; 
hence the return to the estancia took place but slowly. The hunters did 
not return till a little before sunset. 

“ Well, Patito,” asked Don Valentine, “ has anything of importance 
happened ? ” 

“ Nothing, excellency ! ” Patito replied. “ A gaucho, who said he 
had come from Carmen, insisted on being let in to speak with Don 
Sylvio.” 

This gaucho, for whom Patito had been very careful not to lower the 
drawbridge, was his dear and honest friend Corrocho, who, it may be 
femembered, wanted to kill him cleverly. Corrocho had gone off in a 
very bad temper, without leaving any message. 

“ What do you think about this gaucho’s arrival, Don Sylvio ?” Don< 
Valentine asked, when they were comfortably seated in the drawing- 
room. 

“ It does not surprise me,” Sylvio answered. “ My own house is 
being got ready at Carmen, and, no doubt, my orders are wanted.” 

“That is possible.” 

“ 1 am hurrying on the workmen, father. I am so eager tc be 


The Chase of the Nandus, 


53 


married that I fear lest my happiness should slip from my grasp,” said 

Don Sylvio. 

“ And I, too,” said Dona Concha. 

There is a little goose,” said Don Valentine. “ The hearts of girls 
are at work when you least expect it. Patience, miss, for three days 
longer.” 

“ My good father 1 ” Conchita cried, as she hid her face in Don Valen- 
tine’s bosom. 

“ Oh ! in that case I will start to-morrow for Carmen, especially as I 
am awaiting from Buenos Ayres papers indispensable for our marriage,’* 
Don Sylvio added. 

“ I hope,” she said, “ you will start very early, so as to return next 
day.” 

“ I shall be here to-morrow evening. Can I remain long away from 
you, my dear Concha ? ” 

“ No, Don Sylvio, no, I implore you. I do not wish you to return at 
night.” , 

“ Why not ?” the young man asked. 

“ I really cannot tell you ; but I feel frightened at the thought of your 
crossing the pampa by night.” 

“ Oh ! ” she continued, seeing Don Sylvio about to speak, “ I know 
that you are brave, almost too brave ; but gaucho bandits abound in the 
plain. Do not expose a life which is so dear to me, which is no longer 
your own, Sylvio.” 

“ Thanks, Conchita. Still I have no one to fear in this country, where 
I am a stranger. Moreover, I never leave the estancia without looking 
like a theatrical bandit, so covered am I with weapons.” 

“ No matter,” Dona Concha continued ; “ if you love me, you must 
take pity on my anxiety, and — obey.” 

“ Come, come ! ” said Don Valentine, with a laugh. “ On my soul, 
you are mad, Conchita, and your romances have turned your head.” 

“ What would you have, father ? Is it my fault ? The foreboding of 
a coming misfortune agitates' me, and I wish to leave nothing to 
chance.” 

“ Do not cry, my darling child,” the father said to Concha, as she 
burst into tears. “ Kiss me. Your betrothed and myself will do all you 
please.” 

^ Do you really mean it ? ” Dona Concha asked. 

“ On my honour.” 

“Then,” Don Valentine said, gaily, “all is for the best, I sus- 
pect, Conchita, that you are somewhat jealous, and afraid of losing 
Sylvio.” 

“ Perhaps so,” she said, maliciously. 

“ Such things have happenea,” her father said, teazingly. “ So, Don 
Sylvio, you intend starting t<^-morrow morning ? ” 

“ At sunrise, in order to avoid the great heat ; and, as I do not hope 
to have the pleasure of seeing you again before I go, I will take leave at 
once.” 

“ Kiss one another, children 1 When persons part, especially if they 


54 


The Last of the Aucas. 


love, they ought to embrace as if they were never going to meet 
again.” 

“ Really, father,” said Conchita, “ you have such ideas — ” 

“ I was only in fun, my dear child.” 

“ Pleasant journey, Don Sylvio ; and we shall see you again the day 
after to-morrow.” 

“ You may be ^ure of that.” 

The next morning at sunrise Don Sylvio d’Arenal left the estancia. 
At the bottom of the steps the capataz and two peons were waiting for 
him. 

“ Farewell,” said Dona Concha, from her window, with some emotion 
in her voice. 

“ Farewell,” Sylvio replied, wafting her a kiss, “ till we meet 
again.” 

“ That is true,” she said. “ We shall soon meet again.” 

The capataz gave a heavy sigh; he was doubtless thinking of Mercedes, 
and saying to himself that Don Sylvio was a very lucky man. 


CHAPTER XII. 

THE TOLDERIA. 

On the banks of the Rio Negro, about five-and-twenty leagues from 
Carmen, stood the village of Guanacos. 

It was a simple temporary encampment, composed of about one 
hundred chocas, or cabins, irregularly grouped one after the other. 

In front of the entrance of the chocas the lances of the warriors were 
fixed in the ground. These lances were light, and made of flexible 
bamboos, sixteen to eighteen feet in length, and armed at their extremity 
with a spear a foot long. 

The liveliest joy appeared to prevail in the tolderia. In some chocas 
Indian women, provided with spindles, were winding wool ; in others 
women were weaving those ponchos so renowned for their delicacy and 
perfection of work. 

The young men of the tribe, assembled at the centre of the tolderia in 
a large square, were playing at pilma. The players trace a large circle 
on the ground, which they enter and range themselves in two rows facing 
each other. The champions of each party holding a ball full of air in 
their hands, one side on the right, the other on the left hand, throw these 
balls before them. They raise the left leg, catch the projectile in their 


The Tolderia, 


55 


hand, and throw it at the adversary, whom tl ey must hit on the body 
under penalty of losing one point. 

Other Indians of a. riper age were gravely playing a sort of game at 
cards with squares of leather. 

In a choca, larger and better painted than the rest, which was the 
abode of the carasken, or first chief, whose lances, covered at the end 
with red-stained leather, were the distinctive mark of power, three men 
were sitting over a decaying fire, and talking regardless of the noises 
outside. These men were Nocobotha, Pincheira, and Churlakin, whose 
squaw had given birth that same morning to a son, which was the cause 
of the great rejoicings. 

Churlakin received the orders of the great chief for the ceremonies 
usual on such occasions, bowed respectfully, and left the choca, which 
he soon re-entered, followed by his wives and all his friends, one of whom 
held the infant in his arms. 

Nocobotha placed himself between Pincheira and Churlakin, at the 
head of the party, and proceeded towards the Rio Negro. The new-born 
babe, wrapped in woollen swaddling clothes, was plunged into the water, 
and then they returned in the same order to Churlakin’s choca, in front 
of which lay a plump filly, thrown down, and with its four feet secured. 

A poncho was spread under the animal’s belly, and the relations and 
friends deposited on it, one after the other, the presents intended for the 
child, consisting of spurs, weapons, and clothes. Nocobotha, who had 
consented to act as godfather, placed the infant in the midst of the 
presents ; and Cnurlakin laid open the filly’s flanks, tore out its heart, 
and handed it, while still warm, to Nocobotha, who- employed it to make 
a cross on the infant’s forehead, while saying, “ Your name will be 
Churlakincko.” The fatlier took the child back, and the chief, raising 
the bleeding heart, said thrice in a louJ voice, “ Let him live ! let him 
live ! let him live ! ’’ Then he recommended the child to Gualichu, the 
genius of evil, praying him to render him brave and eloquent, and ter- 
minated the enunciation of his vows with the words, “ Above all, let him 
never become a slave.” 

When the ceremony was ended, the filly was cut into pieces, large fires 
were kindled, and all the relations and friends began a feast which would 
last until the immolated filly had entirely disappeared. 

After some conversation Nocobotha said — 

“ Brothers, you are my confidants, and my heart is laid open before 
you, to enable you to see my secret thoughts. You were, perhaps, sur 
prised to-night at finding that I did not count you among the chiefs 
selected to act under my orders.” 

The two chiefs gave a nod of denial. 

“ You neither doubted my friendship, nor supposed that I had with- 
drawn my confidence. I reserve you two for more important enterprises, 
which require sure and well-tried men. You, Churlakin, will mouiV 
without delay. Here is the quipus.” 

And he handed the ulmen a small piece of willow wood, ten inchfe^ 
long and four wide, split down the centre, and holding a human 
finger. This piece of wood, covered with thread, was fringed with 


The Last of the Aucas, 




red, blue, black, and white wool. Churlakin received the quipus respect* 
fully. 

“ Churlakin.” Nocobotha continued, “ you will serve me as casqui 
(herald), not to the Patagonian natives of the pampas, whose caraskens, 
ulmens, and apo-ulmens were present at the solemn meeting at the tree 
of Gualichu, although you may communicate with them on your road ; 
but I send you specially to the nations and tribes scattered far away, ^nd 
living in the woods, such as the Ranqueles, the Guerandis, the Moluchos, 
and the Pecunches, to whom you will present the quipus. Turning back 
thence to the desert, you will visit the Charruas, Bocobis, Tebas, and 
Guaramis, who can place about twenty-five thousand warriors under 
arms. T e task is difficult and delicate, and that is why I entrust it to 
you, whom 1 regard as my second self.” 

“ My brother’s mind can be at rest,” Churlakin said, “ I shall 
succeed.” 

“ Good,” Nocobotha continued, “ I have made nineteen knots on the 
black wool to indicate that my brother left my side on the nineteenth 
day of the moon ; on the white wool twenty-seven knots, to signify that 
in twenty-seven days the warriors will assemble under arms on the 
Island of Ghole-Isechel, at the fork of the Rio Negro. The chiefs who 
consent to join us will make a knot on the blood-red wool, and those 
who refuse will knot the red and blue wool together. Has my brother 
understood ? ” 

“Yes,” Churlakin answered. “ When must I start?” 

“ At once, for time presses.” 

“ In ten minutes I shall be far from the village,” said Churlakin, as he 
bowed to the two chiefs and left the choca. 

“ And now it is our turn,” Nocobotha said, with a friendly accent, when 
he found himself alone with Pincheira. 

“ I am listening.” 

The superior chief, then putting off the composed manner and 
language of an ulmen, employed the European style with surprising 
readiness, and laying aside the Indian dialect, addressed the Chilian 
officer in the purest Castilian spoken from Cape Horn to Magellan. 

“ My dear Pincheira,” he continued, “ during the two years since my 
return from Europe, I have attached to myself most of the Carmen gauchos 
— utter scoundrels, I allow — and bandits exiled from the cities ; but I can 
count on them, and they are devoted to me. These men only know me 
by the name of Don Torribio Carvajal.” 

“ I was aware of the fact,” Pincheira said. 

“ Ah ! ” Nocobotha remarked, darting a glance of suspicion at the 
other. 

“ Everything is known on the pampa.” 

“ In a word,” Nocobotha continued, “ the hour has now arrived when 
I must reap what I have sown among these bandits, who will be useful 
to us against their countrymen, through their knowledge of the Spanish 
tactics and their skill in the use of fire-arms. Reasons which would 
take me too long to explain prevent me from turning my attention to 
the gauchos, so you will introduce yourself to them in my name. This 


The Tolderia, 


57 


ring,” he added, drawing one from his finger, “ will be your passport ; 
they are warned, and if you show it to them, they will obey you as 
myself. They assemble at a low pulberia in the Poblacion del Sur, at 
Carmen.” 

“ I know it well. What am I to do with the fellows ? ” 

“A very simple matter. Every day a devoted man, Panchito by 
name, will transmit you my orders, and inform you of what is going on 
among us. Your duty will be to hold these bandits in readiness, and on 
a day I shall indicate to you you will stir up a revolt in Carmen. This 
revolt will give us time to act outside, while a part of your people 
are scouring the pampas, and freeing us, if possible, from those infernal 
bomberos, who watch our manoeuvres, and are almost as crafty as our 
Indians.” 

“ Confound it,” said Pincheira, “ that is a tough job.” 

“You will succeed, if not through friendship for me, at least through 
hatred of the Spaniards.” 

“ Not to deceive your expectations, I will do more than man can 
do.” 

“ I know it, and thank you, my dear Pincheira. But you must be 
prudent and skilful ! Our plans are suspected, and we are watched. 
To employ an Indian metaphor, I trust to you a mole’s job. You must 
dig a mine under Carmen, which will blow them all up when it 
explodes.” 

“ Carai,” said Pincheira, as he warmly pressed Nocobotha’s hand, 
“ you are one of the men I like. Trust to me, to my friendship, and, 
above all, to my hatred.” 

“ We shall all be avenged,” Nocobotha added. “ May Satan hear 
you ! ” 

“ To work, then ! but, in the first place, lay aside your uniform as a 
Chilian officer. Disguise yourself as well as you can, for your face is 
familiar at Carmen.” 

“Yes,” Pincheira replied, “ and in an hour you will not recognise me 
yourself. I will dress myself as a gaucho, for that will not be noticed. 
Farewell.” 

“ One word yet.” 

“ Say it.” 

“ The man I send to you will arrange a fresh meeting-place for every 
night in order to foil the spies.” 

“ All right.” 

“ Good-bye.” 

Pincheira left the choca ; and the Indian chief looked after him for a 
moment. 

“ Go,” he said, “ ferocious brute, to whom I throw a people as a prey. 
Go ! miserable instrument of projects whose greatness you do not under- 
stand,” he added, as he looked at the Indians, “ they are making 
holiday, playing like children, and unsuspicious that I am about to make 
them free. But it is time for me to think of vengeance.” 

And he quitted the choca. leapt on a horse, which an Indian held by 
the bridle, and started at a gallop on the road to Carmen. 


58 


The iMSt of the Aucas. 


At the end of an hour he stopped on the banks of the Rio Negro, dis- 
mounted, assured himself by a glance that he was alone, took off a 
leathern valise fastened to his saddle, and entered a natural grotto a 
few paces distant. There he quickly doffed his Indian garb, dressed in 
hand-.ome European attire, and set out again. 

It was no longer Nocobotha, the supreme chief of the Indian nations, 
but Don Torribio Carvajal, the mysterious Spaniard. His pace was 
also prudently altered, and his horse carried him at a gentle trot towards 
Carmen. 

On coming near the spot where, on the previous evening, the bomberos 
had halted with their sister to hold a consultat on, he dismounted again, 
sat down on the grass, and took from a splendid cigar-case made of 
plaited Panama straw, a cigar, which he lit with the apparent tranquility 
of a tourist who is resting in the shade, and is admiring the beauty of 
the scenery. 

During this time the footfall of several horses disturbed the solitude 
of the pampa, and a hoarse voice struck up an Indian song well known 
on this border — 

“ I have lost my Neculantey in the country of Tilqui. Oh ! ye damp 
plains which have changed him into shadows and flies.” 

“ Oh, oh ! the song of the Maukawis already 1 ” Don Torribio said, in 
a loud voice. 

“ Does not the note of the Maukawis announce sunrise?” the voice 
asked. 

“ You are right, Panchito,” Don Torribio replied, “ we are alone, so 
you can come as well as your comrade, who, I suppose, is your friend 
Corrocho.” 

“ You have guessed right, excellency,” said Corrocho, as he came from 
behind a sand-hill. 

“ Faithful to our word,” said Panchito, “ we have arrived at the spot 
and hour appointed.” 

“ That is well, my good fellows, and thanks. Come here, but remain 
on horseback. Are you both devoted to me ? ” 

“ To the last drop of our blood, excellency,” the two gauchos said. 

“ And you do not despise money ? ” 

“ Money can only injure those who have none,” the sententious 
Panchito remarked. 

“ When it is honourably gained,” Corrocho added, with an ape-like 
grimace. 

“ Of course, of course,” the young man said ; “ it is a matter of fifty 
ounces.” 

The two bandits had a shudder of joy, and their tiger-cat eyeballs 
flashed. 

“ Carai,” they said. 

“ Does that suit you P ” 

** Fifty ounces ? Of course it is a tough job,” 

“ Perhaps so.” 

“No odds?” 

“ There will be a man to kill.” 


The Pampero, 


59 


** All the worse for him,” said Panchito. 

“ Does it suit you still ? ” 

“ More than ever,” Corrocho grunted. 

In that case listen to me attentively,” Don Torribio Carvajal said* 


CHAPTER XIII. 

THE PAMPERO. 

During the whole course of their journey, which lasted two hours, Don 
Sylvio and Don Bias did not exchange a single word, to the great sur- 
prise of the capataz. Don Sylvio was thinking of his approaching 
happiness, which was slightly overclouded through the sadness of the 
leave-taking and Dona Concha’s presentiments. But these vague alarms 
were dissipated like the morning mist by the sun, so soon as he arrived 
at El Carmen. 

Don Sylvio’s first care was to visit the house to which he would lead 
Dona Concha after the nuptial ceremony was performed. Though com- 
fort does not exist in South America, it was a fairy palace, thronged 
with all the splendours of luxury. A number of French, English, and 
Italian workmen, collected with extraordinary difficulty, were toiling 
without relaxation, under the orders of a skilful architect, in putting the 
final touch to this creation out of the “ Arabian Nights,” which had 
already swallowed up large sums, and which would be in a condition to 
receive its new hosts within eight-and-forty hours. At Carmen nothing 
was talked of but the splendour of Don Sylvio d’Arenal’s palace ; the 
curious crowd that collected in front of the gates related marvels about 
this princely residence. 

Don Sylvio, satisfied at seeing his dream accomplished, smiled as he 
thoght of his betrothed, and after complimenting the architect and 
the workmen, proceeded to pay a visit to the governor, where important 
business summoned him. 

The commander gave the young man, with whose father he had been 
intimate, a gracious reception. Still, in spite of the courteous manner of 
Don Antonio Valverde, Sylvio fancied he could notice traces of secret 
annoyance in his face. 

The governor was a brave and honourable soldier, who had rendered 
good service in the War of Independence, and the Government had 
placed him on honourable half-pay, by entrusting to him the command 
of Carmen, a post he had held for fifteen years. Courageous, strict, and 


6o 


The Last of the Aucas, 


just, the commandant kept the gauchos in order by the punishment of 
the garota, and foiled the repeated attempts of the Indians, who camo 
even under the guns of the fortress, to harry cattle and carry off 
prisoners, especially women. Gifted with but a poor intellect, but sup- 
ported by his own experience, and the esteem of all the honest people in 
the colony, he was not deficient in a certain energy of character. 
“*hysically, he was a tall, stout man, with a rubicund, pimpled face, full 
of self-satisfaction, who listened to people speaking, and carefully 
weighed his words, as if they were made of gold. 

Don Sylvio, as we have said, was surprised at the anxiety which dis- 
turbed the colonel’s face. 

“ It is a miracle,” the latter said, “ to see you here.” 

“ In a few days you will not be able to reproach me thus,” Don Sylvio 
replied. 

“ Then it is coming off soon ? ” Don Antonio said, rubbing his hands. 

“ Yes, I hope to be married within four days. I have come to 
Carmen to-day to give the master’s look at the final arrangements of 
my house.” 

“ All the better,” the commandant replied ; “ I am enchanted that you 
are about to marry the prettiest girl in the colony.” 

“ I thank-you in her name, colonel.” 

“ Do you spend the day at Carmen ? ” 

“Yes, and I intend returning to the estancia at an eatly hour to- 
morrow.” 

“ In that case you will breakfast with me without ceremony?” 

“ Willingly.” 

“ That is famous,” the commandant said, as he rang a bell. 

A peon appeared. 

“ This gentleman will breakfast with me. By-the-bye, Don Sylvio, 

I have a large packet of papers addressed to you, which arrived last 
night.” 

“ Heaven be praised ! I feared some delay. These papers are indis- 
pensable for our marriage.” 

“ All is for the best,” Don Antonio remarked. 

The young man placed the packet in his coat-pocket, and the peon 
opened the door again. 

“ Your excellency is served,” he said. 

A third guest was waiting for them in the dining-room. It was Major 
Bloomfield, an Englishman, who had been second in command a; 
Carmen for twenty years. Don Antonio and the major had fought side 
by side in their youth, and had a fraternal attachment. They sat down, 
after the usual ceremony, to an abundantly and delicately-covered table, 
and at the dessert the conversation became thoroughly friendly. 

“ By the way,” Don Sylvio asked, “ what is the matter with you, Don 
Antonio ? you do not seem in your usual good spirits.” 

“ That is true,” the commandant said, as he sipped a glass of Xeres ; 

I am sad.” 

“You sad? hang it, you alarm me ; if I had not seen you breakfast 
with such a good appetite, I should fancy you ill.” 


The Pampero, 


6x 


** Yes,” the old soldier answered, with a sigh ; ** my appetite is all 
right.” 

“ What else can annoy you ? ” 

“ A foreboding,” the commandant said, seriously, 

“ A foreboding ! ” Don Sylvio repeated, remembering Dona Concha’s 
parting words. 

“ I too, feel anxious, in spite of myself,” the major added ; “ there is 
something. A danger is suspended over our heads, but whence it will 
come the Lord alone knows.” 

“ Yes,” said Don Antonio, “ He knows ; and, believe me, Don Sylvio, 
He gives warnings to men.” 

“ Major Bloomfield and you, both old soldiers, brave as yonr swords, 
cannot be frightened at a shadow ; so what are your reasons ? ” 

“ I have none,” said the colonel ; “ still — ” 

“ Come, come, Don Antonio,” Sylvio remarked, gaily, “ you are suffer- 
ing from the blue devils. Take my advice, colonel ; have yourself bled, 
and in two days the fog over your imagination will be dissipated. Do 
you not agree with me, major ? ” 

“ I wish it may be so,” the old officer answered, with a shake of his 
head. 

“ Nonsense ! ” Sylvio remarked, “ life is too short as it is, then why 
sadden it with chimeras ? ” 

“ On the frontier men can be sure of nothing.” 

“ The Indians have become lambs.” 

“Excellency,” a peon said, opening the door, “abombero, who has 
• arrived at full speed, requests an interview.” 

The three gentlemen looked at one another. 

“ Let him come in,” the colonel said. 

Heavy footsteps echoed in the passage, and the bombero appeared ; it 
was Pedro. He certainly had at this moment the look of a bearer of 
ilUtidings, and seemed to have just come out of a fight. His ragged 
clothes were stained with blood and mud, an unusual pallor covered his 
face, and he leant on his rifle, for he was exhausted by his hurried ride. 

“ Take this glass of wine,” said Don Sylvio : “ it will restore you.” 

“ No,” Pedro answered, thrusting the glass away, “ it is not wine I 
thirst for, but blood.” 

The bombero wiped his dank forehead with the back of his hand, and 
said, in a sharp, quick voice, which conveyed terror to the hearts of the 
three hearers — 

“ The Indians are coming down.’ 

“ Have you seen them ? ” the major asked. 

“ Yes,” he replied, hoarsely. 

“ When?” 

“ This morning.” 

“ Far from here ? ” 

“Twenty leagues.” 

“ How many are there P ” 

“ Count the grains of the sand on the pampa, and you will have th«r 
number,” 


62 


The Last of the Aucas. 


Nonsense 1 ” the colonel exclaimed : ** that is impossible ; the Indians 
cannot thus organise an army at a day’s notice. Terror must have made 
you see double.” 

“ Terror, nonsense 1 ” the bombero answered ; in the desert we know 
it not.” 

“ But, tell me, how are they coming ? ” 

“ Like a hurricane, burning and plundering everything on their 
passage. They form a vast semicircle, whose two extremities are 
gradually drawing nearer to Carmen. They act with a certain method, 
under the orders of a chief who is, doubtless, practised and skilful.” 

“ That is serious,” the commandant said. 

The major shook his head. 

“ Why did you warn us so late ? ” he said to the bombero. 

“ This morning at sunrise my three brothers and I were surrounded by 
two or three hundred Indians, who seemed to emerge suddenly from the 
ground. What a fight it was ! We defended ourselves like lions ; 
Juan is dead, Pepe and Lopez are wounded, but we escaped at last, and 
here I am.” 

“ Return to your post as speedily as possible ; a fresh horse will be 
given to you.” 

“ I am off.” 

Well,” said Don Antonio, after Pedrito had retired, “ what do you 
think of our presentiments, Don Sylvio ? But where are you going ? ” he 
asked the young man, who had risen from his chair. 

“ I shall return to the estancia of San Julian, which the Indians have 
perhaps attacked. Oh, Dona Conchita ! ” 

“ San Julian is fortified, and safe against surprise. Still, try and 
induce Don Valentine and his daughter to return to Carmen, where they 
will be in greater security.” 

^‘Thanks, colonel, I will try; and do you offer a bold front to the 
enemy. As you are aware, the Indians only attempt surprises, and so 
soon as they see that their plans are discovered they are off again.” 

“ May heaven hear you.” 

“ Good-bye for the present, gentlemen, and I wish you success,” said 
the young man, as he pressed the hands of the two old soldiers. 

Don Bias Sallazar, who was waiting for Don Sylvio in the courtyard, 
ran up to him so soon as he perceived him. 

“ Well,” the capataz said, “ you know the news. The Indians are 
making a descent.” 

“ I have just been told so.” 

“ What are we going to do P * 

“ Return to the estancia.” 

“ Hum, Don Sylvio, that is not at all prudent ; the Indians will doubt- 
less bar our way.” 

** We will pass over their bodies.” 

“ Of course, of course ; but suppose they kill you ? ” 

** Nonsense 1 Dona Concha is expecting me.” 

As you please,” the capataz answered; “all is ready for our departure; 
the horses are here, saddled and all. Let us be off.” 


The Pampero. 


6j 


** Thank you, Bias, you are a good fellow,” Sylvio said, as he held out 
his hand to him.” 

“ I am aware of it.” 

“ Off we go.” 

Don Sylvio and Bias, escorted by the two men, walked their horses 
through the crowd of idlers who had assembled in front of the fortress to 
hear the news ; then they went at a sharp trot down the rather steep hill 
that leads from the citadel to old Carmen, and at length galloped 
towards San Julian. 

They had not noticed the behaviour of sundry suspicious-looking 
fellows, who had followed them at a distance ever since they started, and 
were talking eagerly together. 

The weather was stormy, and the clouds were gray and low. The air 
seemed motionless, a deep silence brooded over the solitude ; a white 
cloud, light as a sand-rift, collected in the south-west, which advanced, 
and each moment grew larger. All announced the approach of the 
simoom of the pampas. 

The clouds collected, the dust rose and ran along in dense columns, 
suspended between earth and sky. The clouds enveloped the plain as in 
a mantle, whose corners the gusts lifted at every moment, and which 
lightning-flashes rent here and there. Puffs of hot air traversed the 
space, and suddenly the tempest rushed up furiously from the horizon, 
sweeping the pampa with irresistible violence. The light was obscured 
by masses of sand ; a thick gloom covered the earth, and the thunder 
mingled its terrible artillery with the howling of the hurricane. Enor- 
mous masses were detached from the lofty cliffs, and fell with a frightful 
din into the sea. 

The travellers got off their horses, and sheltered themselves behind 
rocks on the sea-shore. When the worst of the storm had passed, they 
set out again, Don Sylvio and Bias riding silently side by side, while the 
two peons, twenty yards ahead, trembled at the thought of seeing the 
Indians. 

The storm had slightly diminished in intensity, the simoom had carried 
its fury further, but the rain fell in torrents, and thunder and lightning 
followed each other uninterruptedly. The travellers could not continue 
their journey, for they ran the risk of being thrown at every moment by 
their horses, which reared in affright. The ground and the sand, 
moistened by the rain, did not offer a single spot where the brutes could 
set their feet in safety ; they stumbled, slipped, and threatened to 
fall. 

“ Whatever we may do,” said the capataz, “ it is impossible to go any 
further, so we had better halt again, and seek refuge under that clump of 
trees.” 

“ Very good,” Don Sylvio said, with a sigh of resignation. 

The little party at once proceeded towards a wood that bordered the 
road. They were only some fifteen paces from it when four men, whose 
faces were concealed by black masks, dashed out of the wood at a 
gallop, and silently attacked the travellers. 

Th-c peons rolled off their horses, struck by two bullets the strangers 


The Last of the Aucas, 


«4 


bad fired, and writhed on the ground in convulsions of agony. Don 
Sylvio and Bias Sallazar, astonished at this sudden attack on the part of 
men who could not be Indians, for they wore the dress of gauchos, and 
their hands were white, immediately dismounted, and making a rampart 
of their horses, awaited the attack of their adversaries with levelled 
rifles. 

Bullets were exchanged on both sides, and a fierce combat, silent and 
unequal, began ; one of the assailants fell with his skull cleft to the 
teeth ; and Don Sylvio passed his sword through the chest of another, 

“ Well, my masters,” he shouted to them, “ have you had enough ? or 
does another of you wish to form the acquaintance of my blade? You 
are fools : ten of you should have come to assassinate us.” 

“ What ! ” added the capataz, “ are you going to give in already ? you 
are clumsy fellows for cut-throats, and the man who pays you ought to 
have made a better choice.” 

The two masked men had fallen back ; but immediately four other 
men, also masked, appeared, and all six rushed at the Spaniards, who 
firmly awaited the attack. 

“ Hang it I pardon our having calumniated you ; you know your 
trade,” said Don Bias, as he fired a pistol into the thick of his adver- 
saries. 

The others, still silent, returned the fire, and the fight begain again 
with fresh fury. But the two brave Spaniards, whose strength was ex- 
hausted, and whose blood was flowing, tell in their turn on the corpses 
of two other assailants, whom they sacrificed to their rage before 
succumbing. 

So soon as the strangers saw Don Sylvio and Bias .were motionless, 
they uttered a cry of triumph. Paying no heed to the capataz, they 
raised Don Sylvio d’Arenal’s body, laid it across their horses, and fled 
away at full speed along the devious path. 

Several corpses strewed the ground. After the assailants the vultures 
arrived, which hovered and circled above the victims, and mingled their 
hoarse croaks of triumph with the sound of the hurricane. 


CHAPTER XIV. 

PREPARATIONS FOR A SIEGS, 

• It is a heavy blow,” the governor said, after Don Sylvio had left the 
room ; ** but^ viva Dios 1 the j)agans shall find some one to taUt to. 


Preparations for a Siefre. 


^6 


Major, warn the officers to assemble at once for a council of war, so that 
we may arrange the defensive operations.” 

“ That is the plan,” the major answered ; “ I am satisfied with you. 
You draw yourself up haughtily, and I find you again, at last, my dear 
fellow.” 

“ Ah ! my dear Bloomfield, the presentiment of an unknown misfor. 
tune depresses one’s courage, while danger, however great it may be, 
once we have it face to face, ceases to cause terror.” 

“ You are right,” said the major, who left the room to carry out hU 
chief’s orders. 

The officers of the garrison were soon assembled in the governor’s 
rooms. 

“ Sit down, Caballeros,” he said to them : “ you are doubtless aware 
of the motive of this meeting. The Indians are t .reatening the colony, 
and a powerful league has been formed among the Patagonians. What 
forces have we at our disposal ? ” "" 

“ We are not deficient in arms and ammunition,” the major replied. 
“ We have more than two hundred thousand cartridges, and abundance 
of muskets, pistols, sabres, and lances; and our guns are amply supplied 
with round snot and canister.” 

“ Very good.” 

“ Unfortunately,” the major continued, “ our troops — ” 

“ How many have we ? ” 

Our effective strength should be one hundred and twenty, but death, 
illness, and desertion, have reduced it to scarce eighty.” 

“Eighty!” the colonel said, with a shake of h.s head. “In the 
presence of a formidable invasion, as the common safety is at stake, 
can we not compel the inhabitants to get under arms ? ” 

“ It is their duty,” one of the officers said. 

“ An imposing force must crown our walls,” Don Antonio continued ; 
** and this is what I propose. All the peons will be enlisted, and formed 
into a company ; the merchants will form a separate corps ; the gauchos, 
well armed and mounted, will defend the approaches to the town, and 
act as patrols outside. We shall thus muster seven hundred men, a 
sufficient force to repulse the Indians.” 

“ You know, colonel,” an officer objected, “ that the gauchos are utter 
scoundrels, and that the least disturbance is to them an excuse for 
plundering.” 

“ On that account they will be employed for the external defence. 
They will be encamped outside the co.ony, and, to diminish the chances 
of revolt amongst them, they will be divided into two squadrons, one of 
which will scout while the other is resting. In this way we shall have 
nothing to fear from them.” 

“ As for the creoles and strangers residing in the colony,” the major 
remarked, “ I think it will be as well to give them orders to come to the 
fortress every night to be armed in case of necessity.” 

“ Excellent. The number of bomberos will be doubled to prevent a 
surprise, and barricades raised at each entrance of the town to protect 
»;is from the terrible charges of the Indians.” 


D 


66 


The Last of the Aucas, 


“ If that is your opinion, colonel,” the major interrupted, ** a sure man 
ought to be sent off to the estancias, to tell them to seek refuge in 
Carmen, when they are warned of the approach of the enemy by three 
cannon-shots.” 

“ Do so, major, for the poor people would be pitilessly massacred by 
the savages. The inhabitants of the town must also be warned that all 
their females must withdraw into the fort when the pagans come in sight, 
unless they wish them to fall into the hands of the Indians, In the last 
invasion, if you 'remember, they carried off upwards of two hundred. 
And now, gentlemen, all that is left to us is to do our duty truly, and 
confide in the will of Heaven.” 

The officers rose, and were about to take leave of their chief, when a 
peon announced another bombero. 

“ Show him in, and pray be seated again, Caballeros.” 

The scout was Pepe, Pedrito’s brother. Although he had started five 
hours after his brother from their place of ambush, he was scarce an 
hour behind him. His great pace indicated the gravity of the news he 
brought. He had retained his cunning look, although his face was pale, 
blood-stained, and black with gunpowder. His torn clothes, the hand- 
kerchief fastened round his head, his arm in a sling, but, above all, four 
scalps hanging from his girdle, showed that he had ridden through the 
Indians in order to reach Carmen, 

“Pepe,” the governor said to him, “your brother has just left 
me.” 

“ I know it, colonel.” 

“ Is your news worse than his P ” 

“ That depends on the way in which you take it.” 

“ What do you mean by that ? ” 

“ Why,” the bombero said, carelessly, “ if you are fond of your ease, I 
have not come to reassure you ; if you feel a desire to mount your horse 
and to see the foe you will have no occasion to indulge your fancy, as 
what I have to tell will cause you immense pleasure.” 

In spite of the gravity of the circumstances, and the anxiety of his 
hearers, they smiled at Pepe’s singular arguments. 

“ Explain yourself Pepe,” the governor said to him. 

“Ten minutes after my brother’s departure,” the bombero went on, “ I 
examined some bushes which I had seen moving in an unusual manner. 
I discovered a peon, who was pale in spite of his black hide, and whose 
tongue terror appeared to have tied. At length he made up his mind to 
speak. He belonged to a poor old gentleman of the name of Ignacio 
Bajal, one of the two men who alone escaped from the massacre of San 
Jose, during the last invasion. The peon and his master were gathering 
wood, when the Indians appeared a short distance off; the peon had time 
to conceal himself behind a pile of bisacha^ but the old man fell beneath 
the blows of the savages, who attacked him with lances and bolas perdidas, 
I began reassuring the negro, but at the same moment perceived a 
multitude of Indians driving prisoners and cattle before them, burning 
and destroying everything as they passed in full march on Carmen. 
The estancia of Punta Rosa and that of San Bias are at this moment a 


Preparations for a Siege, 


^1 


pile of ashes, and serve as tombs to the owners. That is my news, excel* 
lency, and you can do what you like with it.” 

“ And those bleeding scalps ? ” the major asked, pointing to the 
human trophies that hung froni the bombero’s belt. 

“That is a personal matter,” Pepe replied, with a smile. “Through 
friendship for the Indians, I preferred to lift their hair rather than leave 
them my head.” 

“ Perhaps it is only a band of plunderers of the pampas, who have 
come to steal cattle, and will retire with their booty.” 

“ Hum,” said Pete, with a shake of his head, “ they are too numerous, 
too well equipped, and are advancing with too much regularity. No, 
colonel, it is not a skirmish, but an invasion.” 

“Thanks, Pepe,” the colonel said; “ I am satisfied with you. Return 
to your post, and redouble your vigilance.” 

“ Juan is dead, colonel, and that will tell you how fond my brothers 
and I are of the Indians.” 

The bombero retired. 

“ You see, gentlemen,” said Don Antonio, “ that time presses. Go all 
of you to your duties.” 

“One moment,” said Major Bloomfield; “I have one more suggestion 
to make.” 

“ Speak, my friend.” 

“ We are, so to speak, lost in this corner of the earth, and remote 
from any help ; we may be besieged in Carmen, and forced into sur- 
render by starvation. Under these imperious circumstances, I ask that 
a ship should be sent to head-quarters to describe our situation and re- 
quest reinforcements.” 

“What do you think, gentlemen, of the major’s suggestion?” the 
colonel asked, looking inquiringly at the officers. 

“ It is excellent, colonel, excellent,” one of tliem answered. 

“ The suggestion will be carried out at once,” Don Antonio continued; 
** and now, gentlemen, j-ou can withdraw.” 

The defence of the fort and town was organised with a rapidity in- 
conceivable to any one acquainted with Spanish sloth ; danger gave 
courage to the timid, and doubled the ardour of the oti.ers. Two hours 
later the cattle had been driven in, the streets barricaded, the guns 
sponged out, and the women and children shut up in buildings adjoining 
the fort ; a vessel was sailing away, and one hundred and fifty resolute 
men were intrenched at Poblacion del Sur, the houses of which they had 
loopholed. 

The governor and Major Bloomfield seemed to be everywhere at once; 
encouraging the troops, ordering the workmen, and imparting energy to 
all. 

About three in the afternoon a violent breeze sprang up, which bore 
from the south-west the smoke occasioned by firing the country, and 
hiding distant objects. The inhabitants of Carmen were devoured with 
anxiety. 

Such is the simple and ingenious plan the southern nations employ to 
favour their invasion of the territory of tne wfiites to hide their 


68 


The Last of the Aucas. 


manoeuvres, and conceal their numbers from the piercing eyes of the 
bomberos. The smoke, like a floating wall, separated the Indians from 
Carmen, and in consequence of the brightness of the nights they had 
selected the period of the full moon. 

The scouts, in spite of the dense smoke that protected the enemy, arrived 
at a gallop one after the other, and announced that they would be before 
Carmen during the night. In fact, the Indian hordes, whose numbers 
incessantly increased, covered the whole extent of the plain, and 
advanced on the town with startling rapidity.. 

By the governor’s orders the three alarm-shots were fired, and the 
farmers could be seen flocking up, driving their cattle before them, and, 
on seeing their houses fired and their rich crops destroyed, they shed 
tears of despair. 

The consternation and terror were general ; on all sides could be heard 
lamentations and sobs ; the night came to add its horrors to the situa. 
tion. Numerous patrols traversed the streets, and, at intervals, daring 
bomberos slipped furtively out of the city to watch the approach of the 
enemy. 

About two in the morning a slight sound was audible, at first almost 
imperceptible, but which was every moment augmented, and, as if by 
enchantment, the Aucas crowned the top of the barricades, waving 
lighted torches and uttering their war-yell. 

For a moment the inhabitants fancied the town captured ; but Major 
Bloomfield, who commanded the post, was on his guard. At the 
moment when the Aucas prepared to escalade the barricades a sharp 
fusillade broke out, which hurled them to the fo jt of the entrenchments. 

As the Indian surprise had failed, they would, it was supposed, with- 
draw, but at daybreak, however, all the illusions of the inhabitants 
were dissipated — the enemy had not thought of retreating. 

It was a heartrending sight ! The country was devastated, and the 
expiring flames could still be seen in the distance. Here, a band of 
Aucas were driving horses off ; there, warriors, with lances erect, were 
watching the movements of the towns people ; behind them squaws and 
children were driving cattle, which uttered long lowings ; here and 
there prisoners, men, women, and children, forced along by blows 
with lance-staves, were holding up their suppliant arms to the town- 
walls. 

The oldest soldiers were amazed at the regularity of the enemy’s 
march. The troops were skilfully grouped ; the infantry executed, with 
great precision, movements which they had hitherto been ignorant of, and 
it was an extraordinary thing to see the Aucas form a parallel round 
the town, and almost instantaneously throw up earthworks which 
protected them from the artillery. 

“ Sangre de Dios ! ” the colonel exclaimed, “ there is a white manamoag 
the villains ; never before have they waged war in this way.” 

“ Hum ! ” the major muttered, biting his moustache, “ if the president 
does not send succour we are lost.” 

“ Yes, my friend : we shall leave our skins here.” 

“ How many are there, colonel ? twenty thousand — thirty thousand P" 


A Brave Resolve, 6g 


“And those who are still coming up, and who blacken the distant 
plains ? — Hulloh ! but what means the sound of that bugle ? ” 

Four chiefs, preceded by a herald who carried a white flag, had 
halted within half gun-shot of the first barriers of Poblacion de 
Sur. 

“They seem,” the colonel said, “ to be desiring a parley. Do they 
fancyme fool enough to venture into thattrap ? Major, just fire a round 
of canister into that group to teach them not to treat us as fools.” 

“ We should be wrong, colonel ; let us learn what they want.” 

“ But where shall we find a man fool enough to risk his carcase among 
those pagans, who have neither faith nor law ? ” 

“ I will go, with your permission,” the major said, simply. 

“ You ? ”'Don Antonio exclaimed, in amazement. 

“ Yes, I. Unfortunate persons have been confided to our guard and 
our honour. I am but a man ; my life is of but little consequence for 
the defence of the town. 1 am old, colonel, and will try to save the in- 
habitants of Carmen.” 

The governor suppressed a sigh, and affectionately shook his old 
friend’s hand. 

“ Go,” he said, with considerable emotion, “ and may Heaven protect 
fou ! ” 

** Thanks,” Major Bloomfield answered. 


CHAPTER XV. 

A BRAVE RESOLVE, 

On leaving Carmen Pedrito felt a recollection of his sister aroused in 
his mind, and in order to warn Don Valentine Cardoso of the invasion 
of the Indians, he started at a gallop for the estancia, which, thanks to 
the speed of the fresh horse the governor had given him, he reached 
without a check. All was quiet at San Julian, and the sentry watching 
in the mirador had perceived nothing alarming in the distance. 

Patito, in the capataz’s absence, was on guard at the battery, like a 
faithful watch -dog. 

“ Where is Don Bias ? ” the bombero asked. 

“ At Carmen, with Don Sylvio d’Arenal,” the gaucho answered, 

“ What 1 have they not returned yet ? ” 

“ No.” 

** Lead me to Don Valentine.'* 




The Last oj the Aucas. 


The estancicro heartily welcomed the bombero, and sent for his sister, 
\7ho arrived with Dona Concha. 

“ What brings you here in such a hurry, Pedrito ? ” 

“ A very serious matter, Don Valentine,” he answered, after embracing 
Mercedes several times ; “ but only look, excellency, how pretty she is in 
her new dress 1 Kiss me again, little sister.” 

“ Have you only ccJme to devour the girl with caresses ? ” Don Va- 
lentine asked, with a smile ; “ if so, go on to your heart’s content.” 

“ That is almost enough,” Pedrito replied, his eyes filled with tears. 
"Alas ! our family is diminishing daily. Still,” he added, changing his 
accent, “ however great the love I bear my sister, it is not for her sake 
alone that I am here. But stay, excellency, that is not true ; it is for her 
sake, her sake alone, though apparently for yours, I have just come from 
Carmen.” 

From Carmen ?” said Dona Concha, involuntarily. 

“ Yes, senorita,” the bombero answered, as if reading the young lady^s 
secret thoughts, “ and I saw Don Sylvio d’Arenal there.” 

Dona Concha turned red as a cherry, and was silent. 

“ And what have you been doing in Carmen ? ” Don Valentine asked. 

“ I went to warn his excellency Colonel Don Antonio Valverde that 
the Indians have entered the country of the Republic, plundering and 
burning everything on their road.” 

" An invasion ! ” Don Valentine said, with an internal tremor. 

" O Heavens ! ” the two girls exclaimed, clasping their hands with a 
movement of terror. 

“ Yes, excellency, an inconceivable and terrible invasion. When I 
had warned the governor, I remembered my sister, and came here.” 

“You are a worthy fellow, Pedrito,” the estanciero said, as he offered 
him his hand. “ You are more than a brother to Mercedes. But do 
not be frightened ! the estancia is safer than Carmen.” 

“ I saw that so soon as I arrived, excellency, and that removed a heavy 
weight which oppressed my heart. I shall now go, with almost glad- 
ness, to join my two brothers. Juan died on the field — the same fate 
awaits us. But Mercedes is happy, and I can die in peace.” 

“ Oh, my kind Pedrito,” Mercedes exclaimed, as she burst into tears, 
and threw herself into his arms; “must you not live for one who loves 
you ? ” 

“ Come, do not cry, little girl, but say good-bye ; I must return to the 
plain.” 

He tenderly embraced his sister, who was still weeping, left the room, 
mounted his horse again, and started at a gallop. 

“ Father,” Dona Concha said, eagerly, “are we going to remain at the 
estancia during the invasion of the Indians?” 

“ My child, it is the safest plan.” 

" But, Don Sylvio ? ” she added, with a delicious pout. 

“ He will come and join us.” 

“ Oh, no,” she said, hurriedly. “You forget, father, that the roads arc 
impracticable, and infested with Indians ; 1 do not wish him to fall into 
an ambuscade of the pagana^ 


A Brave Resolve, 




“ What is to be done P ” 

Send him a messenger ordering him, from me, to remain at Carmen, 
or, if he absolutely insists on returning, to take a boat ; the Indians will 
not dare attack him on the river. Write to him, father ; I will add a few 
lines to your letter, and he will not like to displease his wife.” 

“ His wife ? ” her father repeated, with a smile. 

“ Or nearly so, as I am going to marry him in two days. You will 
write at once, will you not, dear father ? ” 

“ I have no will but your caprices,” he added with an air of resignation. 

He sat down at a mahogany desk and wrote j Concha, leaning 
smilingly over his chair, read over his shoulder. So soon as Don 
Valentine had concluded, he turned to his beloved daughter. 

“ Well, are you satisfied, little Mrs. Bluebeard ? ” he asked her. 

“ Oh, my kind father,” she replied, taking his head in both her hands, 
and kissing him on the forehead. Then, with a movement full of loving 
grace, she took the pen from her father’s fingers, and was writing a few 
lines at the foot of the letter when a great noise, mingled with shrieks, 
was heard outside. 

“O Heavens! ’’she exclaimed, as if struck to the heart, and turning 
deadly pale. 

She rushed to the steps, and perceived Patito and Pedrito carrying a 
man wrapped up in a cloak ; other persons were collected round Dona 
Sallazar, who seemed on the point of fainting. 

“ Whose is that body ? ” Dona Concha asked in a sharp, imperative 
voice. 

“ It is my son’s ! ” the heart-broken mother cried. 

Don Bias Sallazar,” Pedrito answered. 

“And Don Sylvio ? ” the maiden continued. 

“ Has disappeared,” Pedrito said. 

She fell back, half dead ; her father caught her in his arms and 
carried her back to the drawing-room. 

This is what had happened. Pedrito, when he had got a short distance 
from the estancia, was all but unsaddled, by his horse suddenly shying. 
Aroused from his reverie by the animal’s terror, the horseman looked 
around to discover the cause of it. Judge of his surprise 1 At a spot 
which appeared to have been the scene of a desperate struggle the damp 
earth retained the marks of several horses’ hoofs ; weapons had been 
thrown away there, and seven corpses lay pell-mell in pools of blood and 
muddy water. 

“ What 1 ” Pedrito thought, “ have the Indians come this way 
already?” and he added, “ Why is it they have not stripped their 
victims ? ” 

He dismounted and walked up to the bodies which he examined 
attentively and felt and raised one after the other. 

“ Something that is not natural has taken place here,” the bombero 
said; “two peons! Oh! ” he said, on coming to thegauchos, “what are 
these men wearing masks ? Oh ! oh ! has it been a crime instead of an 
ambuscade, and a bit of Spanish vengeance instead of an Indian attack f 
I will have a look at th««H.” 


The Last of the Aucas, 




He tore from the faces of the four gauchos the strips of wool they had 
employed to conceal themselves. 

“ On my word, I do not know them ; who can these scoundrels be 

At the same moment his eyes rested on another corpse, hidden by a 
thickly growing bush, beneath which it lay stretched out. 

“ This man is not dressed in the same manner, so he must be one of 
the Caballeros attacked by these villains; I will have a look at him, and 
perhaps he will give me the clue to this adventure.” 

He uttered a cry on recognising Don Bias Sallazar, the capataz of th® 
estancia de San Julian. He bent over him, raised him softly in his 
arms, and deposited him gently in the road, with his back leaning 
against a rock. 

“ Poor capataz ! so brave and kind I but if I am not mistaken I can feel 
a little warmth. Viva Dios ! I should be glad if he were not dead. 

The bombero then opened his clothes, and saw three insignificant 
wounds on his chest ; he hastened to bandage them carefully, and found 
that the flesh was scarcely cut. Pedrito rubbed his hands with a 
satisfied air, until he discovered on the skull a fourth wound, on which 
the hair had clotted and stopped the flow of blood. He washed the 
wound, cut away the hair round it with his knife, saturated a handker- 
chief with water, and bound it tightly over the wound. The capataz gave 
a faint sigh, and moved slightly. 

Carai 1 ” Pedro exclaimed, in delight, “he is saved ; wounds on the 
skull, when they do not kill at once, are cured in a week.” 

By degrees the wounded man seemed to return to life, and at length 
opened his eyes and gazed absently round. 

Ah, my good fellow, do you feel better ? Carai^ do you know that you 
have had a narrow escape ? ” 

The capataz gave a gentle nod. 

** Wait a minute,” Pedrito continued ; and he thrust into his mouth the 
neck of the boto of aguardiente, which the bomberos always carry on 
their saddle-bow. Don Bias made a grimace, but soon resigning him- 
self, he drank the liquor his physician forced down his throat; in a few 
minutes his eyes sparkled with their accustomed brilliancy, and a slight 
flush tinged his cheeks. 

“ Thanks,” he said, thrusting away the bota with his hand. 

“ You speak, therefore you are alive, capataz. Can you talk P * 

‘^Yes.” 

“ Without danger to yourself, senor P ” 

“ Yes.” 

** In the first place, do you recognise me P ” 

“You are Pedrito, the bombero,” the wounded man said, with a smile. 

“ I am a friend.” 

“ Yes. 

Who put you in this charming condition P * 

I do not know.” 

“ Hum I how many were they P ” 

** I am ignorant.” 

“ Eh! and why did they serve you out in this wajf • 


A Brave Resolve. 


73 


“ I do not know.” 

“ I do not know ; I am ignorant ; all that is not very clear ; and if you 
never say any more, I doubt whether the assassins will be detected. 
Where have you come from ? from Carmen ? ” 

“ We left Carmen this morning, to ” 

** One moment, if you please. You said we^ I think ? ” 

“Yes, we.” 

“ Who are we ? ” 

“ Don Sylvio d’Arenal, myself and two peons.” 

“ Good. Where did you separate from Don Sylvio P ” 

“ 1 did not leave Don Sylvio at all.” 

“ Oh, nonsense ! ” 

“ We were together, when these bandits suddenly came out of this 
wood, and attacked us. Our peons were killed at the first shot, but 
Don Sylvio and I got our backs against a tree behind our horses ; I 
fought — and I can tell you no more.” 

“ This blow on the head settled you ; it was enough to fell an ox ; 
but you have a hard head, and lucky for you, for you will recover. So 
you were unable to recognise your assassins ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“Just come and have a look at them with me.” 

And Don Bias Sallazar got up, and tottered a few steps with extreme 
difficulty. 

“ Take my arm,” Pedrito said. 

The capataz, supported by the bombero, examirved the faces of the 
gauchos. 

“ I recognise this man,” he said, pointing to a corpse ; “ it is Corrocho. 
Now I know the originator of the snare.” 

“ Yes ; but Don Sylvio’s body is not here.” 

“ Heaven be praised 1 ” the capataz exclaimed ; “ he must have escaped, 
and we shall find him at the estancia.” 

“ No ! ” Pedrito said. 

“ What do you mean by no ? ” 

“ I have just come from there, and should have seen him.” 

“ Where is he ? ” 

“ That’s the very point, I may say, like you, I do not know.” 

“ Don Pedrito, let us go to San Julian.” 

“ I will carry you, then, at a walking pace ; your head has not closed 
again yet.” 

“ No matter ; I must go there with the speed of the wind.” 

“ Then you want to kill yourself ? ” 

“ I do not care. I think you love Don Valentine Cardoso and his 
daughter.” 

“ I would lay down my life for them.” 

“ The happiness, perhaps the life, of Dona Concha is at stake ; mmo 
*s of no consequence.” 

“ That is true,” the bombero said, 

“ Then you conse.it ? ” 

" I do.” 


74 


The Last of the Aucas. 


“ Thank you ! one word more. If I die on the road; you will tell 
Dona Concha that the assassin ” 

“ That the assassin ” Pedrito repeated, finding the other hesitate. 

“ But, no,” the capataz continued, “ it is unnecessary. God will not 
permit me to die before I have seen her.” 

“ As you please. Let us be off.” 

He remounted, placed the capataz before him, and flew along with 
the velocity of the phantom -horse in the German ballad. 

The horse, when it reached the gates of the estancia, slipped, and fell 
dead. But the bombero, who had foreseen this accident, came down on 
his feet, holding in his arms his friend. 

Patito helped the bombero to carry poor Don Bias as far as the 
house. 

Dona Concha, who had regained her senses, insisted, in spite of her 
father’s entreaties, on remaining by the side of the wounded man. She 
lavished attentions on him, poured into his mouth a few drops of a 
powerful cordial, and awaited h.s return to life. 

“ Forgive me, senorita, forgive me,” he said, as soon as he opened his 
eyes again and perceived her, “I could not save him ; my strength de- 
serted me.” 

“ I have nothing to forgive you, Don Bias,” the young lady answered, 
who had learnt the facts from Pedrito ; “ on the contrary, my friend, I 
thank you for your devotion. One word, hgwever, when you fell was 
Don Sylv'o still fighting by your side ? ” 

“ Yes, senorita.” 

“ Then it was only after your fall that he succumbed to the numbers ? ” 

“ No ; Don Sylvio is not dead.” 

“ What makes you suppose that ? ” 

“ A very simple thing : had he been killed, his body would have been 
found lying by my side. What interest could the assassins have in con- 
cealing a corpse, when they left seven lying in the middle of the road ? 
If they wished to hide their crimes, a hole is soon dug in the sand.” 

“ That is true,” Dona Concha said, “ he still lives; but do you know 
the author of the crime ? ” 

“ Yes, senorita.” 

“ And ” 

The capataz looked at the persons who crowded the room. Dona 
Concha understood him, and dismissed them. Pedrito was about to fol- 
low with the rest. 

“ Remain,” she said to him, “ you can speak before Don Pedrito, his 
sister, and my father. Who is the man that attacked you ? ” 

“ Permit me, senorita, I do not positively say that he was among the 
assassins, for I did not see him ; but it is certainly he who let the cowards 
loose upon us, and directed them from a distance.” 

“Yes, Don Bias; he was the head, and these ten or twelve bandits 
were only the arms.” 

“ The very thing. Among the dead 1 found the corpse of one of his 
confidants, the gaucho Corrocho, whom I surprised the other day con- 
spiring with him against you.” 


A Brave Resolve, 


75 


A bitter smile for a moment curled the young lady’s blanched 
lips. 

“Will you tell me his name or no?”’ she exclaimed, stamping hei 
foot passionately. 

“ Don Torribio Carvajal ! ” 

“ I knew it ! ” she said, with an accent of superb disdain. “ Oh, Dost 
Torribio, Don Torribio ! where is the man to be found at this hour; 
where Is he P Oh, I would give my fortune, my life, to be face to face 
with him. Is it in order to assassinate his rivals with impunity that this 
mysterious man ” 

She could not complete the sentence ; she burst into tears, and fell 
into Don Valentine’s arms, exclaiming with broken sobs — 

“ Father, father ! who will avenge me ? ” 

“ Senorita,” said Pedrito, “ the man you refer to is difficult to reach,” 

“ Do you know him, Don Pedrito ? ” she asked, with a start. 

“Yes, senorita,” he replied. “ But do you know who he is P” 

“ He is said to be a rich Spaniard.” 

“ It is a mistake.” 

“ Have you penetrated the mystery that surrounds him ? ” 

“ Yes.”^ 

All drew close to Pedrito. 

“ Well, Don Pedrito ? ” 

“ The name of the man you call Don Torribio Carvajal is really No- 
cobotha, and he is one of the principal chiefs of the Aucas Indians.” 

“ An Indian ! ” the young lady exclaimed, in stupor. 

“Yes; but one of those white-skinned Indians who are descended 
from the Incas, and call themselves children of the sun.” 

“ Take care, Conchita,” Mercedes said, “ Nocobotha is a terrible 
man.” 

“ Then, all that is left me is to die,” said the poor affianced girl, as 
she fell into a chair. 

Mercedes regarded her for a moment with a blended look of sorrow, 
compassion, and tenderness, then walked up to her and gently laid her 
hand on her shoulder. At this unexpected touch, Dona Concha started 
and turned round. 

“ What do you want of me, poor child ? ” she asked, sadly. 

“ To save Don Sylvio, if he is alive,” Mercedes answered, in a calm, 
firm voice. 

“ You ? ” 

“ Yes, II When I was shelterless, did you not open to me your home 
and your heart ? You are suffering, and, in my turn, I have come to 
say, ‘ Here I am.’” 

“ But what can you do, my friend ?” 

“ That is my secret. I know the Indians and the way of behaving 
with them, and speak their language. The only condition I make is 
that you promise not to leave the estancia for three days, and not make 
any attempt to disco /er what has become of your betrothed.” 

Dona Concha gazed at Mercedes, whose eye sparkled with a clear and 
bright fire, her features breathed a species of masculne grace, and so 


76 


The Last of the Aucas, 


fioft and calm a smile played round her rosy lips that Conchita felt her- 
self subjugated, and, in spite of herself, hope re-entered her heart. 

“ I swear it to you,” she said, as she embraced the girl warmly. 
“Thanks,” Mercedes replied. “Good-bye, Conchita 1 in three days 
you will have news of your betrothed or I shall be dead,” 


CHAPTER XVI. 

THE INVASION. 

Let us now give some explanations about the Indian expedition, and the 
preparations and arrangements made by Nocobotha, at the moment of 
attempting the siege of Carmen. 

“ If you succeed in this affair,” Don Torribio had said to the two 
gauchos, after giving them orders to carry off Don Sylvio d’Arenal, 
“you will receive fifty ounces more. But forget nothing, and be 
careful.” 

Panchito and Corrocho, when left alone, shared the ounces between 
them with transports of joy. 

Don Torribio remounted his horse, and proceeded to Carmen, where 
he spent several days in his house, though no one was aware of the f^ct. 
During his stay he had two interviews, under different disguises with 
Pincheira, at the Pulperia del Sur, the usual meeting-place of the 
gauchos. Each night three or four mules, laden with bales, left the 
city, under the escort of Indians, and proceeded in the direction of the 
Andes. 

At length, one night, after a long conference with Pincheira, Don 
Torribio left FI Carmen in his turn, his presence in the town not even 
beirig suspected. At six leagues from Carmen he found Panchito and 
Corrocho, whom he sharply upbraided for their sloth in executing his 
orders, and he recommended them to act as promptly as possible. 

On the morrow, the day of the nandus hunt, Corrocho presented him- 
self at the gate of the estancia, which Patito had refused to open. 

On leaving the two bandits, Don Torribio proceeded to the natural 
grotto, where he changed his clothes once before. , There he put on his 
Indian trappings, and following the banks of the Rio Negro, galloped 
towards the island of Ghole-Isechel, where he had appointed to meet all 
the war detachments of the combined Patagonian and Araucano tribes. 

The night was one of the most delirious ever enjoyed in America. 
The fresh air, odorous witii the penetrating perfumes of the flowers that 


The Invasion, 


n 


grew in masses on the river-banks, disposed the mind to reverie. The 
sky, of a dark black hue, was embroidered with stars, in the midst of 
which sparkled the dazzling Southern Cross, which the Indians call 
Paron-Chayke. The moon poured its soft light on the sand, and played 
on the foliage of the trees and designed fantastic forms on the sand- 
banks. The wind blew softly through the branches, in which the blue 
jay at intervals uttered the melodious notes of its plaintive song. Here 
and there, in the distance, could be heard the hoarse roar of the cou- 
gars, the sharp whine of the panther, and the snapping bark of the 
red wolf. 

Nocobotha, intoxicated by the lovely autumn night, presently checked 
his horse’s speed, and allowed his thoughts to wander. The descend- 
ant of Mancho-Capai and Mancho-Oello, the first Incas of Peru, saw 
pass and repass before his mind the splendours of his race, which had 
been extinct since the death of Athahualpa, the last Peruvian emperor, 
whom Pizzaro’s soldiers assassinated. His heart swelled with pride and 
joy when he thought that he was about to reconstitute the empire of his 
ancestors. The soil he trod was his ; the air he breathed was the air of 
his country I 

He went on thus for a long time, travelling in the land of dreams. 
The stars began to grow pale in the sky; the dawn was already tracing 
a white line, which gradually became tinged with yellow and red streaks, 
and, at the approach of day, the breeze freshened. Nocobotha, sud- 
denly roused by the icy dew of the pampas, threw his cloak across his 
shoulder, with a shudder, and started again at a gallop, after looking up 
to Heaven, and muttering — 

“ Either death or a life of liberty ! ” 

A sublime remark in the mouth of this man ! Young, rich, and hand- 
some, he might have remained in Paris, where he had studied, lived 
there like a nobleman, and enjoyed abundantly all the pleasures of this 
world. But, no 1 Free from all ambitious thoughts, and without caicu- 
lating on human gratitude, he resolved to deliver his country. 

At about eight in the morning, Nocobotha halted before a village, 
facing the island of Ghole-Isechel. At this spot the Rio Negro attains 
its greatest width, and each of the arms formed by the island is about 
two miles and a-half across. The island, that rises in the middle of the 
water, four leagues long and two wide, is one vast bouquet, whence the 
most delicious fragrance is exhaled, and in which innumerable birds 
sing. Illumined this day by the beams of a splendid sun, the islana 
seemed to have been laid on the river like a basket of flowers, for the 
pleasure of the eyes and the delight of the fancy. 

As far as the eye reached along the banks of the river, thousands ot 
toldos and chocas could be seen erected close together, and their strange 
colours flashing in the sun. Numerous canoes, made of horse-hides 
sewn together, and generally round, or hollowed out of the trunks of 
trees, crossed the river in every direction. 

Nocobotha entrusted his horse to an Indian woman, and walked among 
the toldos. In front of their openings the ostrich-plumed pennons of 
the chiefs floated in the breeze. 


78 


The Last of the Aucas. 


He was recognised so soon as he arrived. The warriors drew up in 
line as he passed, or bowed respectfully before him. The veneration the 
southern nations have ever felt for the descendants of the Incas seemed 
changed into a species of adoration. The bejewelled coronet that 
adorned his brow appeared to arouse the most lively joy in all hearts. 

When he reached the river-bank, a fishing-canoe conveyed him across 
to the island, where a toldo had been prepared for him. Lucaney, 
warned by the sentries who watched for his anival , presented himself 
before Nocobotha the moment he landed. 

“ The great chief,” he said, with a bow, “ has returned among his 
sons. Has my father had a pleasant journey ? ” 

“ I have had a pleasant journey, I thank my brother.” 

“ If my father permits, I will conduce him to his toldo.” 

“ Go on,” the chief said. 

Lucaney bowed a second time, and guided the great chief along a 
track formed through the bushes. They soon reached a toldo of bril- 
liant colours, large and clean, the handsomest on the island, in a word. 

“ My father is at home,” Lucaney said, lifting the poncho that covered 
the opening. 

Nocobotha went in. 

My brother will fol'ow me,” he said. 

The woollen curtain fell again behind the two ulmens. 

This abode, like the others, contained a fire, by the side of which 
Nocobotha and Lucaney seated themselves. They smoked in silence 
for some moments, when the great chief addressed Lucaney. 

“ Have the ulmens, apo-ulmens and caraskens of all the nations and 
tribes assembled on the island of Ghole-Isechel as I gave orders ? ” 

“ They are assembled,” Lucaney answered. 

“ When will they come to my toldo ? ” 

“ The chiefs are awaiting my father’s good pleasure.” 

“ Time is precious. Before twilight we must have ridden twenty 
leagues. Lucaney will warn the chiefs.” 

The chief rose without replying and went out. 

“ Come ! ” Nocobotha said, so soon as he was alone, the die is cast, 
I am in Caesar’s position, but, by heavens, like him, I will cross the Ru- 
bicon.” 

He rose and walked for more than an hour up and down the toldo, 
immersed in deep thought. A noise of footsteps was heard ; the cur- 
tain was raised, and Lucaney appeared. 

“ Well ?” Nocobotha asked him. 

The chiefs are here.” 

“ Let them come in.” 

The ulmens, sixty at least, dressed in their richest clothes, and painted 
and armed for war, passed silently one after the other in front of the 
great chief, salute! him, kissed the hem of his robe, and ranged them- 
selves round the fire. A troop of warriors, outside, kept listeners 
aloof. 

Nojobotha, in spite of his self-command, could not restrain a move- 
ment of pride. 


The Invadxta. 


n 


“ My brothers are welcome,” he said ; “ I was impatiently expecttof 
them. Lucaney, how many warriors have you assembled ? 

“ Two thousand five hundred.” 

“ Chamata ? ” 

“ Three thousand." 

“ Metipan ? ” 

** Two thousand.” 

“ Vera?” 

** Three thousand seven hundred.* 

Killipan ? ” 

“ One thousand nine hundred.” 

Nocobotha wrote down on his tablets the numbers stated by the 
ulmens, who, after answering, arranged themselves on his right 
hand. 

“ Lucaney,” he continued, “ is Pincheira’s war-party here ? * 

“ Yes, father.” 

** How many warriors has he ? ” 

“ Four thousand eight hundred." 

“ Mulato, how many have you ? " 

“ Four thousand.” 

“Guaykilof?” 

“ Three thousand five hundred." 

“ Killamel?” 

“ Six thousand two hundred." 

" Churlakin ? " 

“ Five thousand six hundred." 

“ Which are the nations that accepted the quipus, and sent their war. 
riors to the gathering place ? ” 

“ All I ” Churlakin answered, proudly. 

“ My heart is satisfied with the wisdom of my son. What is the 
effective strength of these eight nations ? ” 

“ Twenty-nine thousand seven hundred and sixty men, commanded 
by the bravest ulmens.” 

“ Good,” said Nocobotha. “ The Aucas and Araucano chiefs here 
present have brought twenty-three thousand seven hundred and fifty 
warriors. We can also reckon on a reinforcement of five hundred and 
fifty gauchos, or white deserters, whose assistance will be very useful to 
us. The total strength of the army is ninety-four thousand nine hun- 
dred and fifty men, with whom, if my brothers place confidence in me, 
we shall expel the Spaniards, and regain our territory within three 
months.” 

“ Our father will command, and we obey." 

“ Never has a larger and more powerful army menaced the Spanish 
authority since Tahi Mari’s attempt upon Chili. The whites are igno- 
rant of our projects, a:» I convinced myself at Carmen. Hence our 
sudden invasion will be to them a thunderbolt, and render them motion- 
less with terror. On our approach they will be already half conquered. 
Lucaney, have you given out the arms 1 sent you from Carmen to the 
way-iors who understand their use ? ” 


So 


The Last of the Aucas. 


A corps of three thousand two hundred men is armed with muskets 
and bayonets, and abundantly provided with powder and ball.” 

“ It is well. Lucaney, Churlakin, and Metipan will remain with me, 
and aid me in communicating with the other chiefs. And now, ulmens 
and caraskens of the united nations, listen to my orders, and engrave 
them deeply on your minds, for any disobedience or cowardice will im • 
mediately be punished by death.” 

There was a solemn silence. Nocobotha took a calm and haughty 
look round the assembly. 

“ In an hour,” he continued, “ the army will start in close columns. 
A cavalry corps will protect each infantry detachment. The army will 
extend along a line of twenty leagues, which will be concentrated on 
Carmen. All the chiefs will fire the country as they pass, in order that 
the smoke, impelled by the wind, may hide our movements and cover us 
like a thick curtain. The crops, estancias, and all property belonging 
to the whites, will be burned and levelled with the ground. The cattle 
will be sent to the rear-guard to swell our booty. Show no mercy to the 
bomberos, but kill them on the spot. Killipan, with twelve thousand 
horsemen and ten thousand infantry, will command the rear-guard, to 
which will be attached all the women of any age to fight, and it will 
set out six hours after the main body. Bear in mind that the warriors 
must advance in compact bodies, and not as stragglers. Be off, and 
make haste, for we must be in front of Carmen by daybreak to- 
morrow.” 

The chiefs bowed, and silently defiled out of the toldo. 

A few minutes later an extraordinary animation prevailed in the im- 
mense camp of the Indians. The women pulled down the toldos and 
loaded the mules ; the warriors assembled to the sound of musical in- 
struments ; the children lassoed and saddled the horses ; in short, 
hurried preparations were made for a start. 

Gradually the disorder ceased. The ranks were formed, and several 
detachments started in different directions. Nocobotha, standing on 
the top of a mound, and accompanied by his three aides-de-camp, 
Lucaney, Churlakin, and Metipan, followed with a glass the movements 
of the army, which, within a quarter of an hour, was no longer visible. 
Already the plain was on fire, and veiled the horizon with a black smoke. 

Nocobotha descended the hill and went to the river-bank, where the 
four ulmens got into a canoe, which they themselves rowed. They soon 
reached land, where twenty-five Aucas horsemen were waiting for them. 
The party set out on the trail of the army — a too visible trail. Alas ! the 
country so green and beautiful that very morning was gloomy, desolated, 
and covered with ashes and ruins. 

From a distance Pedrito and his brothers perceived the Indians, and 
although surrounded by a swarm of warriors, they succeeded, through 
their courage, in escaping from their enemies, with the exception of 
poor Juan, who was killed by an Indian lance. Pepe and Lopez, both 
wounded, went on in front to watch the movements of the invaders, 
while Pedrito, covered with dust and blood, galloped to give the alarm 
at Carmen. 


The Invasion. 


8i 


This escape singularly annoyed Nocobotha and disarranged his coniu 
binations. Nevertheless, the army continued its march, and at night- 
fall the town could be seen through the growing obscurity. At the head 
of a hundred picked warriors, Nocobotha made a circuit and advanced 
on Poblacion del Sur. All was silent, and the barricades seemed 
abandoned. The Indians succeeded in scaling them, and would have 
carried the town, had it not been for the vigilance of Major Bloomfield. 

The great chief, not wishing to shake the confidence of his men by 
vain attempts, fell back and ordered a camp to be formed in front of 
the town. Pursuing tactics hitherto strange to the Indians, he made a 
parallel and ordered a wide ditch to be dug in the sand, the earth from 
which served to throw up a breastwork that defended them from the 
cannon. 

Pincheira, as we know, was in Carmen for the purpose of arranging 
a revolt among the gauchos. As Nocobotha desired to come to an 
understanding with him as to the decisive attack, he sent towards the 
town a Chilian deserter, who knew how to play the bugle, an instrument 
quite unused among the Aucas. This bugler bore a white flag, in sign 
of peace, and asked for a parley. He was followed by Churlakin, 
Lucaney, Metipan, and Chaukata, who were ordered by the great chief 
to make proposals to the governor of Carmen. 

The four ambassadors, standing within half gun-shot from the town, 
with their long lances planted before them, with the ostrich plume, the 
symbol of their dignity, flying out, were waiting motionless on their 
horses. Their leather armour was covered with coats of mail made of 
small rings, which had doubtless belonged to the soldiers of Almagro 
or Valdivia. The bugler, haughtily standing a few paces in front of 
them, waved his flag. The chiefs’ steeds were armed with rich harness, 
embroidered wi‘h silver plates that spark’ed in the sun’s beams. 

The Spanish pride suffered at the thought of treating on equal terms 
with these pagans, to whom they even refused a soul, and whom they 
did not recognise as men. But it vfras necessary to gain time ; perhaps 
the reinforcements from Buenos Ayres were already under weigh. 

The Indian bugler, wearied at receiving no answer to his two first 
summons, blew a third peal by Churlakin’s order. A Spanish bugler at 
length replied from the interior of the town, and the barrier was opened, 
leaving a passage for a soldier, who carried a white flag, and was fol- 
lowed by an officer on horseback. This officer, it will be remembered, 
was Major Bloomfield, who, as an old soldier, was unwilling to appear 
before the Indians except in full dress uniform. 

He proceeded without hesitation towards the ulmens, who, through 
their silver ornaments and their immobility, resembled at a distance 
equestrian statues. 


CHAPTER XVII. 

THE ATTACK ON POBLACION DEL SUR. 

Major Bloomfield, who had made up his mind to lose his life, had no 
weapons, not even a sword. He halted within hearing distance, and as 
he spoke decently the Aucas language, which he had learnt in previous 
campaigns, he had no need of an interpreter. 

“ What do you want, chiefs ? ” he asked, in a loud, firm voice, with a 
ceremonious bow. 

“ Are you the man whom the whites call Don Antonio Valverde, and 
to whom they give the title of governor ? ” Churlakin asked, in his 
turn. 

“ No ; our laws prohibit a governor leaving his post ; but I am second 
in command, and he has sent me to you,” 

The Indians seemed to consult for a moment ; then, leaving their 
long lances planted in the ground, they advanced towards the old 
officer, who did not evince the slightest surprise at this movement. 
Churlakin spoke in the name of all. 

“ My brother is brave,” he said, astonished at the major’s coolness. 

“At my age,” the old man replied, “ death is a favour.” 

“ My father bears on his brow the snow of many winters ; he must be 
one of the wisest chiefs of his nation, and the young men round the 
council-fire listen to him respectfully.” 

“ Say no more about me,” the major said ; “ why have you asked for 
this interview ? ” 

“ Will not my father conduct us to the council-fire of his nation ? ” 
Churlakin said, in an insinuating tone. “ Is it honourable for great 
warriors, formidable chiefs, thus to discuss serious affairs on horseback, 
between two armies ?” 

“ No chief of the enemy can enter an invested town.” 

“ Does my father fear that our force may take his city ? ” Churlakin 
continued, with a laugh, though vexed in the highest degree at losing 
the hope of coming to an understanding with Pincheira. 

“ I am not accustomed to fear ; I only tell you a rule you are ignorant 
of, that is all. If this pretext is sufficient to break off the interview, 
you are at liberty to do so, and I will withdraw.” 

“ Oh, oh 1 my father is quick for his age. Tell me what brings you 
here.” 

The ulmens exchanged a glance, and a few whispered words. At 
length Churlakin continued — 

“ Has my father seen the great army of the Aucas ? ” he said. 


The Attach on Pohlacion del Sur, 


83 


Yes,” the major replied, carelessly. 

“ And has my father, who is a white man, and has great learning, 
counted the warriors ? ” 

“Yes.” 

“ Ah ! and how many are they, according to his calculation.” 

“ Their number is but of slight consequence to us.” 

“ Still,” the Indian pressed, “ does my father know how many they 
may be ? ” 

“ Two hundred thousand at the most.” 

The chiefs were struck by the negligent way in which the major 
doubled the strength of their army. 

“ My father,” Churlakin continued, “ is not terrified at the number of 
these warriors, who obey a single chief ? ” 

“ Why should I be so ? ” the major said, whose attention the surprise 
of the ulmens had not escaped ; “ has not my nation vanquished more 
numerous armies ? But we are losing our time in useless words, 
chief.” 

“ My father must have patience.” 

Finish your Indian circumlocutions then.” 

“ The army of the great nations is encamped in front of Carmen, in 
order to obtain satisfaction for all the wrongs the pale-faces have made 
us endure since their invasion of America.” 

“ Explain yourself clearly. Why do you invade our frontiers ? Have 
we failed in our engagements ? Of what do you complain ? ” 

“ My father pretends to be ignorant of the just motives for war we 
have against the whites. His nation has made a treaty with the white 
men who dwell on the other side of the mountains, and who are our 
enemies ; hence his nation has no friendship for us.” 

“ Chief, this quarrel is ridiculous. Confess that you desire to plunder 
our farms, steal our cattle and horses, and I can understand you ; but if 
we were at war with Chili, you would act in the same way. The jest 
has lasted too long; let us come to facts. What do you want ?” 

“ My father is clever,” Churlakin said, with a laugh. “ Listen ! this 
is what the chiefs say — ‘ The ancient chief, against our rights and his 
own, sold to my fathers’ ancestors a land which did not belong to him, 
without the consent of the other ulmens of the country.’ ” 

“ What next? ” said the major. 

“ The chiefs assembled round the tree of Gualichu have resolved to 
give back to the great white chief all the objects from the first to the 
last formerly p-iven to the ulmen, and take back the country.” 

“ Is that alf ? ” 

“ All.” 

“ How long do the chiefs give the Governor of Carmen to discuss 
these propositions ? ” 

From sunrise to sunset.” 

“ Very good,” the old officer said, ironically ; “ and supposing that 
the governor refuses ? ” 

“ The colony of the white men will be destroyed by fire, their warriors 
massacred, and their wives and children carried off into slavery,” 


84 


The Last of the Aucas, 


" I will transmit your demands to the governor, and to-morrow at 
sunset you will have his answer.” 

“ Keep on your guard meantime.” 

“ Thanks, chief ; I am delighted to meet an Indian who is not a 
scoundrel. Good-bye till to-morrov/.” 

“ To-morrow ! ” the chief repeated, courteously. 

The major withdrew slowly to the barricades, where the colonel, 
alarmed by the long interview, had made all preparations to avenge the 
death of his old friend. 

“ Well ? ” he said, as he pressed his hand. 

“ They are trying to gain time,” the major answered, “ in order to 
play us one of their demon’s tricks.” 

“ What do they demand, though ? ” 

** Impossibilities, colonel, and they are well aware of it, for they ap- 
peared to be laughing at us, when they submitted their absurd demands 
to me. The chief, they say, had no right to sell his territory, which they 
also say we must return to them in twenty-four hours, and then came 
the bede-roll of their usual threats. Ah i that is not all ; they are ready 
to repay us all they received for the sale of his lands.” 

“ Why,” Don Antonio interrupted, in a tone of the utmost scorn, “ the 
fellows must be mad.” 

“ No, colonel, they are robbers.” 

At this moment tremendous shouts were heard at the barriers, and 
the two officers, suddenly interrupting their conversation, hurried up in 
all haste. 

Four or five thousand horses, apparently free, but whose invisible 
riders were concealed, according to the Indian fashion, along their flanks, 
were coming at a frightful pace against the barricades. Two rounds of 
canister produced disorder in their ranks, without checking their speed, 
and they fell like lightning on the defenders of Poblacion del Sur. 
Then began one of those terrible fights of the Indian frontiers, a cruel 
and indescribable contest, in which no prisoners were made ; the: do/as 
perdidaSj the laquis, the bayonet, and the lance, were their sole weapons. 
The Indians were immediately reinforced, but the Spaniards did not 
give way an inch. This desperate struggle lasted for about two hours ; 
the Indians seemed to give ground, and the whites redoubled their 
efforts to drive them back to their camp, when suddenly the cry was 
heard behind them — 

Treachery ! treachery ! ” 

The major and the colonel, who were fighting in the front rank of 
the soldiers and volunteers, turned round ; they were caught between two 
fires, 

Pincheira, dressed in the uniform of a Chilian officer, was prancing at 
the head of a hundred gauchos, more or less intoxicated, who followed 
him, yelling — 

“ Pillage 1 pillage!” 

The two veteran officers exchanged a long, sad glance, and their de- 
termination was formed in a second. 

The colonel hurled among the Indians a barrel of gunpowder, with a 


The Attack on Pohlacion del Sur, 


8s 


lighted fuze, which swept them off as the wind sweeps the dust, and put 
them to flight. The Argentines, at the major’s command, wheeled round 
and charged the gauchos commanded by Pincheira. These bandits, 
with their sabres and bolas in their hands, dashed at the Argentines, who 
slipped into the open doors of the abandoned house, in a narrow street, 
where the gauchos could not manoeuvre their horses. The Argentines, 
who were skilful marksmen, did not throw away a shot ; they fell back 
on the river-bank, and kept up a well-sustained fire on the gauchos, who 
had turned back, and on the Aucas, who had again escaladed the 
barricades, while the guns of the fort scattered canister and death 
among them. 

The white men then crossed the river without any risk, and their 
enemies installed themselves in the Poblacion del Sur, filling the air with 
triumphant hurrahs. 

The colonel ordered considerable works to be thrown up on the river 
bank, and placed in them two batteries of six guns each, whose fire 
crossed. 

Through the treachery of the gauchos the Indians had seized Poblacion 
del Sur, which, however, was not the key of the place ; but this negative 
success entailed an enormous loss upon them. The colonists, through 
this, saw their communications interrupted with the estancias on the 
opposite bank, but luckily the farmers had come into Upper Carmen 
beforehand with their horses and cattle, and the boats were all moored 
under the batteries of the fort which protected them. The suburb cap- 
tured by the assailants was, consequently, entirely empty. 

On one side the whites congratulated themselves at having no longer 
to defend a dangerous and useless post ; on the other, the Aucas asked 
themselves of what good this dearly-acquired suburb would prove to 
them. 

Three gauchos during the fight were dragged from their horses and 
made prisoners. One was Panchito, the second name unknown, and the 
third a man of the name of Diego. A council of war, assembled in the 
open air, sentenced them to the gallows. 

“ Well, Diego,” asked Panchito, “ where is Pincheira ? ” 

“The scoundrel has escaped,” Panchito replied; “ deserter from the 
army, deserter from the gallows ; that is the way in which he breaks all 
his engagements. He will come to a very bad end.” 

“ Our affair seems clear enough,” Diego said, with a sigh. 

“ Nonsense ! a little sooner or a little later, what’s the odds ? 

“ The gallows seems to tickle your fancy, Panchito.’’ 

“ Not exactly,” the other answered “ but for four generations my 
family have been hanged, from father to son ; we quite expect it. What 
will the fiend do with my soul ? ” 

“ I do not know.” 

“ Nor do I.” 

During this edifying conversation three lofty gallows had been erected 
a little outside the entrenchments on the river-bank, in the sight of the 
whole population and of the gauchos, who, grouped in the Poblacion del 
Sur, yelled with rage. Panchito and Diego and their friend were hunf 


86 


The Last of the Aucas. 


as a warning example ; a bando, affixed at the foot of the ladder, 
threatened every insurgent gaucho with the same fate. 

While this was going on night set in, illumined by the burning 
faubourg conquered by the Indians. The flames tinged the hapless 
town with fantastic gleams, and the inhabitants, plunged in a gloomy 
stupor, said to themselves that the flames would soon cross the road and 
reduce Carmen to ashes. The governor seemed made of iron ; he did 
not take a moment^s rest, he visited the forts, heightened drooping 
spirits, and tried to imbue all with hopes which were far from his heart. 
As for the Indians, they made two attempts to surprise the town, and, 
just before dawn, retired to their camp. 

“ Major,” the colonel said, “ it is not possible to deceive ourselves. 
To-morrow, the day after, or in a week, all will be over with us.” 

“ Hum ! at the last moment we will blow up the fort.” 

** We are deprived of even that resource.” 

“ Why so?” 

“ Old soldiers, such as we are, cannot thus dispose of the lives of 
others.” 

“You are right,” the major continued, precisely; “we will blow out 
our brains.” 

“ Nor can we do that either, my friend ; for we must be the last on 
the breach.” 

“ But,” the major said, after a short silence, for the undeniable 
reasoning of his superior had crushed him, “ how is it that we have 
received no news from head-quarters ? ” 

“ They have something else to do there than think about us.” 

“ Oh ! I cannot believe that.” 

A peon announced Don Torribio Carvajal. 

Don Torribio came in dressed in the splendid uniform of a colonel 
in the Argentine army, with an aide-de-camp’s badge on his left arm. 
The two officers on his entrance felt an intense tremor. Don Torribio 
bowed to them. 

“ Is it really you, Don Torribio ?” the governor asked. 

“ Well, I suppose so,” he answered, with a smile. 

“ And your long journey ? ” 

“ I have just arrived.” 

“ And this uniform ? ” 

“ Well, gentlemen, as I was tired of being regarded in the colony as 
a mysterious being, a sorcerer, a vampire, or something of the sort, 1 
resolved to become a man like the rest of you.” 

“ Then you are ” 

“ An officer, like yourself, colonel, and, in addition, aide-de-camp to 
the general.” 

“It is prodigious,” Don Antonio remarked. 

“ Why so ? nothing is more simple, on the contrary.” 

A strange suspicion had entered the major’s mind at Don Torribio’s 
unexpected arrival, a suspicion which only disappeared after he made the 
following remark : 

“ Yes,” he continued, “ I am a colonel. In addition, the President of 


The Cave of the Cougars. 


87 


the Republic has entrusted me with a message, which I feel sure wil 
please you.” 

And he took from the breast of his uniform a large despatch sealed 
with the Argentine arms. The colonel, with the permission of the two 
officers, opened and perused the mission, and unbounded delight was de- 
picted on his face. 

“ Oh, oh ! ” he exclaimed, “ two hundred and fifty men ! I did not 
expect such a reinforcement.” 

“The president is very anxious about the colony,” Don Torribio said, 

and will spare no sacrifice to preserve it.” 

'• Thanks to this succour, Don Torribio, I care no more for the 
Indians than a wis ^ of straw.” 

“ It seems that the troops will not arrive too soon.” 

“ It was only just in time, canario,” the governor replied, imprudently. 
“ Where are your men?” 

“ They will arrive within an hour.” 

“ What are they ? ” 

“ Gauchos.” 

“ Hum ! ” said the colonel, “ I should have preferred any other troops. 
However, it is of no consequence. With your permission, I will go to 
meet them.” 

“ I am at your orders.” 

“ Shall I go with you?” the major asked. 

That would be better still,” Torribio observed, quickly. 

“ No, major,” said Don Antonio. “ Stay here, for who knows what 
may happen during my absence ? Come, Don Torribio.” 

The latter smiled; and it would have been difficult to say what the 
smile meant. He went out, accompanied by the colonel, and they 
mounted their horses. As they left the fort a man passed them, walking 
at a quick pace. 

“ Pedrito ! ” Don Torribio muttered to himself j “ providing that he 
has not recognised me, all is well.” 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

THE CAVE OF THE COUGARS. 

Pedrito followed his sister without saying a word, and almost as much 
astonished as Don Valentine and her daughter at Mercedes’ devotion. 
She led him to her bedroom, a charming retreat, full of shade and fresh 


8B 


The Last of the Aucas, 


aix. While the bombero eagerly surveyed all the objects, Mercedes 
sighing and ready to weep, took a parting glance at her well -beloved 
room ; but she had the courage to repress her tears. 

“ Sit down, brother. I have a great service to ask of you.” 

“ Hang it 1 A service, little sister? why assume so solemn an air for 
>uch a simple thing ? ” 

“ Because it is difficult.” 

“ Nothing is impossible to please you. What is the matter ? ” 

“ Swear to me, first, to grant what I am about to ask of you.” 

‘‘Go on, child, and do not trouble yourself about the rest,” Pedrito 
said, with a hearty laugh. 

“ No. I must have your oath.” 

“ I have taken it; that is understood. I have all the gravity of an 
Indian idol.” 

“ You are laughing at me,” she said, with tears in her eyes. 

“ Confound the women I ” Pedrito remarked ; “ they can always twirl 
men round their fingers. Come, silly child, do not cry any more, i 
swear to obey your whims. Tell me what it is all about.” 

“ I have promised Dona Concha, my dear brother, to give her within 
three days news about Don Sylvio.” 

“ What next?” 

“ I wish to perform my promise.” 

“ The deuce ! ” 

“ And for that I have counted on you.** 

“ On me?” 

“Yes.” 

“ How can I help you ? ” 

“ Without you the affair is impracticable.” 

“In that case, little sister, I am greatly afraid that—** 

“Remember your oath.” 

“ Go on. I am listening.” 

“ I have lived a long time among the Indians, whose manners and 
language I am acquainted with. I intend to get into their camp un 
noticed, in order to learn where Don Sylvio is.” 

“ Good-bye, Mercedes.” 

“ And your oath, brother ? ” she said, placing herself before the door, 
“ I shall not keep it ; and if Heaven thinks that I ought, we will argue 
the point together.” 

She looked at her brother for a moment in silence. “ You are quite 
resolved ? ” she continued. 

“ Quite.” 

“ Then I shall go alone.” 

“ What 1 ” Pedrito exclaimed, as he rushed towards her ; “ do you wish 
to be the death of me, then ? ” 

Mercedes made no reply. 

“ Go away, brother. I will do without you.” 

“ Come on I I will follow you. Oh, these women ! ” the bombero 
^claimed. 

“ We shall succeed,” she exclaimed, joyfully. 


The Cave oj the Cougars, 


89 


“Yes, in getting ourselves killed.” 

“ Let us be off, brother,” she said, placing under her arm a small 
bundle of clothing. 

Mercedes, fearing the emotion of a farewell scene, avoided Dona 
Concha. 

Patito had got two horses in readiness, which speedily carried brother 
and sister far from the estancia. At the battery the capataz was waiting 
for them. 

” Senorita,” he said to Mercedes, “ you are a noble girl. Heaven will 
aid and bless you.” 

“ Don Bias,” Mercedes answered, with a smile, as she drew from 
her bosom a small gold cross Dona Concha had given her, and broke 
the velvet neck ribbon, “take this cross, and keep it in remembrance of 
me.” 

The two travellers had been galloping a long time ere the capataz 
left off kissing the cross, while thinking that its usual resting-place was 
on the maiden’s bosom. Pedrito and his sister rode side by side without 
exchanging a word, for both were plunged in deep thought. 

“ How far have we to go ? ” Mercedes asked all at once. 

“ Two leagues.” 

After a while they heard the footfall of a horse behind them ; they 
turned, and perceived Patito, who was making signals to them, and the 
gaucha soon joined them. 

“ My mistress is following me,” he said. 

Dona Concha, dressed in male clothing, came up at the full speed of 
ner horse. 

“Ah,” she said, on joining them, “ I trembled lest I should miss you.” 

“ Are we to turn back ? ” Pedrito asked, with a fugitive gleam of 
hope. 

“ No, no ; on the contrary ; push on,” Concha replied. 

“ Where are you going, senorita ? ” 

“ I am following you.” 

“ What P ” he said, fancying he misunderstood her. 

“ I guessed your plan, Mercedes, and mean to share its perils.” 

“ That is fine, senorita I ” Pedrito exclaimed. 

“ She is right,” Mercedes said, simply ; “ that will be better.” 

“You, Patito,” Concha said, “can go back; I have no need of your 
services.” 

“ Forgive me, but with your permission I will remain ; I am not 
wanted at the estancia, and, though I do not know where you are going, 
two strong arms are worth keeping.” 

‘ Remain, my friend.” 

“ But your father, Don Valentine, senorita ? ” Pedrito attempted to 
say. 

“ He approves of what 1 do,^ sne answered. 

They again started ; two hours later they reached the foot of a hill, 
half-way up which was a natural grotto, known in the country by the 
name of the Cave of the Cougars. 

“ My brothers are there.” Pedrito said* 


90 


The Last of the Aucas, 


The little party ascended the gentle slope of the hill, and entered the 
cave on horseback, without leaving any trace of their passage. There 
were several entrances to the cave; it was divided into several com- 
partments that had no visible communication, and formed a species of 
labyrinth that meandered under the hill. The bomberos, who knew all 
its turnings, often employed it as a refuge. 

Pepe and Lopez were seated before a heather fire, silently smoking 
their pipes, and watching a leg of guanaco roasting. They saluted the 
new-comers, and then remained dumb as the Indians, whose manner 
they had to some extent assumed in their nomadic life on the pampa. 
Pedrito conducted the two ladies to a separate compartment. 

“ While here,” he said to them, in a low whisper, “ say but little, for you 
can never tell what neighbours you may have. If you want us, you know 
where we are ; I now leave you.” 

His sister caught his arm and put her lips to his ear, and he went 
away without making any answer. 

The two girls, when alone, threw themselves into each other’s arms. 
When this outburst was over, they prepared to disguise themselves as 
Indian women. At the moment when their Spanish dresses were about 
to fall, they heard footsteps close to them, and turned like startled 
fawns. 

“ I was afraid,” Dona Concha said, “ lest it was Don Pedro • let us 
listen.” 

“Carai, Don Torribio, you are welcome,” a man’s voice said, hardly 
three yards from the girls ; “ I have been waiting for you for more than 
two hours.” 

“ Always that man ! ” Concha murmured. 

“ My good fellow,” Don Torribio replied, it was impossible for me 
to come sooner.” 

“ Well, here you are, that is the main point,” the first speaker re- 
marked. 

At this moment Pedrito entered ; Mercedes made him a sign to listen, 
and h^ came to her side. 

“Are you satisfied with your position at Carmen?” Torribio con- 
tinued. 

“ Not very greatly, I confess.’* 

“ I am going to liberate you, my dear Pincheira ; I shall order the 
attack on Poblacion del Sur to-morrow, and then you will act, I sup- 
pose.” 

“ That is settled. By-the-by, I just now came across a poor devil of 
an officer, entrusted with a despatch for the governor of El Carmen ; it 
announces help, I suppose.” 

“ Caramba ! they must make haste. What did you do with the 
despatch P ” 

“ Here it is.” 

“ Did you kill the messenger ? ” 

“Well, I fancy so.” 

“That is right.” 

“ When is the assault to take place ? ** 


The Cave of the Cougars. 


9 ^ 


** In two days. How is my prisoner, by the way ? ** 

** Oh, he is furious.” 

“ He will grow calm. This is what I intend to do, soon as the 
town ” 

But while these words were being spoken, the two men had retired, 
and the sound of their voices died out in the windings of the cave. 
When the maidens turned round again Pedrito had disappeared. 

“Well,” Mercedes said, “what do you think of that singular ac- 
cident ? ” 

“ It is a miracle of Heaven.” 

“ Shall we still disguise ourselves ? ” 

“ More so than ever.” 

“ For what purpose? ” Pedrito said, who had returned. I know where 
Don Sylvio is, and I undertake to restore him to you.” 

“ But our vengeance ? ” Dona Concha interrupted. 

“ Let us save him first. Return to the estancia, senorita, and leave 
me to act.” 

“ No, Don Pedro, I shall not leave you.” 

“ Wait for me here, then, both of you.” 

Several hours passed, and Pedrito did not return. Alarmed by this 
inexplicable delay, the two girls joined the other bomberos in the front 
cave. Night had set in when Pedrito returned; he brought an enormous 
bale on the neck of his horse, which was panting with fatigue. 

“ Put on these gauchos’ dresses,” he said to the two ladies ; “ we are 
going to get inside Carmen. The journey will be a rough one, but make 
haste, for every moment lost is an hour of danger for us.” 

They ran off to dress themselves, and were ready in a moment. 

“ Take your Indian robes,” Pedrito said, “ for they may be useful to 
you. Good ; now follow me, and be cautious.” 

The three bomberos, the two girls, and Patito left the cave, and 
glided through the darkness like shadows, marching in Indian file, at 
one moment stooping down to the ground, crawling on their knees, and 
trying as far as possible to hide their passage. It was a singular and 
dangerous journey, in the depths of night, and across a desert whose 
thickets in time of war are peopled with invisible enemies. Pedrito had 
placed himself at the head of the party. Dona Concha, excited by the 
courage which love imparts, stained the prickles with her blood, but not 
a single complaint passed her lips. After three hours of extraordinary 
effort, the-little party that followed Pedrito’s track suddenly stopped on 
his stopping. 

“ Look !” he said to them in a whisper, “ we are in the heart of the 
Aucas’ camp.” 

All around them in the moonbeams they saw the Indian sentinels 
leaning on their lances and watching over the safety of their brothers. 
A shudder ran over the maidens ; fortunately, the guards, not fearing 
a sortie from Carmen, were sleeping at their posts, but the slightest 
badly-calculated movement or stumble might wake them. Hence Pedrito 
recommended them to redouble their prudence if they wished to save 
their Uves» 


92 


The Lest of the Aucas, 


About two hundred yards in front of them rose the first houses of 
Carmen, gloomy, silent, and apparently at least deserted or plunged in 
silence. The six adventurers had cleared one half the distance, when 
suddenly, at the moment when Pedrito stretched out his arm to shelter 
himself behind a sand-hill, several men, crawling on the opposite side, 
found themselves face to face with him. 

There was a moment of terrible anxiety. 

“ Who goes there ? ” a low and threatening voice asked, 

** Pedrito, the bombero.” 

“ Who is with you ? ” 

“ My brothers.” 

“ Pass I ” 

Ten minutes after this encounter they reached the barriers, which 
were at once opened on Pedrito mentioning his name, and they were at 
length safe in Carmen. It was high time ; in spite of their resolution 
and courage, the two girls, worn out with fatigue, could no longer sup- 
port themselves. So soon as the danger had passed, their nervous 
excitement gave way, and they fell utterly exhausted. Pedrito raised 
his sister in his arms ; Pepe took charge of Dona Concha, and they 
proceeded to Don Valentine’s house, where fresh difficulties awaited 
them. Tio Peralta refused to open the gate, but on at length recog- 
nising his mistress, he led the travellers into a room and lit the candles. 

“ What are we to do now ? ” Dona Concha asked, as she fell back into 
a chair. 

“ Nothing just at present,” Pedrito answered. “ Rest yourself , senorita, 
and regain your strength.” 

“ Shall we remain for long in this state of inaction, which kills us ? ” 

“ Only till to-morrow. We must not run blindly into danger, but pre- 
pare everything for the success of our plans, and watch for the propitious 
moment. To-morrow, at the latest, those men whose conversation we 
overheard will attempt an attack on Poblacion del Sur. As for us, we 
shall be more at liberty to enter the Indian camp. Keep your presence 
in Carmen a secret from everybody, and give no sign of life till 1 return. 
Good-bye till to-morrow morning.” 

“ Are you not going to rest, Don Pedro ? ” 

** I have no time.” 

Pedrito left the room. Dona Concha recommended the utmost silence 
to Tio Peralta, and dismissed her companions, who went off to sleep in 
hastily-prepared apartments. 

Mercedes would not separate from her friend, and they reposed on 
the same couch. In spite of their wish to remain awake, nature was the 
stronger, and they soon fell into a deep sleep. The sun was already 
high on the horizon when they opened their eyes again. They dressed 
themselves and breakfasted with their companions, impatiently awaiting 
the bombero’s return. 

Several hours passed, lacerating Dona Concha’s heart, and making 
her love bleed ; the recollection of her betrothed husband, covered with 
the shadow of deatn, painfully troubled her thoughts. 

At length the town bells rang out a full peal to call the population 


Don Torribi6*s House, 


93 


under arms,» and acted as a gloomy accompaniment to the dull booming 
of the cannon apd the flashes of the musketry-fire. Without doubt the 
Indians were attacking Poblacion del Sur : but where was Pedrito ? 
Dona Concha asked herself, as she walked, like a lioness in a cage, up 
and down the room, devoured by anxiety and despair. 

“ Listen 1 ” she said to Mercedes, as she turned her head towards the 
door. 

“ It is he I ” Mercedes replied. 

“ At last I ” Conchita exclaimed. 

“ Here I am, senorita,” Pedrito said ; are you ready ? ** 

“ Ever since the morning,” she answered, reproachfully. 

*■ It would have been too soon,” he said quietly ; “ now if you like,” 

” At once.” 

“ Senorita, be dumb ; whatever you may hear and see, leave me to 
speak and act alone. Stay 1 here is a mask for each of you, with which 
you will conceal your faces. When I give the word, come in.” 

All the three left the house without attracting attention, for the towns- 
people were guarding the barricades or engaged in the furious contest 
going on in Poblacion. 


CHAPTER XIX. 

DON TORRIBIO’S HOUSE. 

Don Sylvio d’Arenal, so soon as his sword slipped from his grasp, 
tnd he fell by the side of the capataz, gave no signs of life. The masked 
men, despising Bias Saillazar, went up to Dona Concha’s betrothed hus- 
band. The pallid hues of death clouded his handsome, noble face ; his 
teeth were clenched under his half-parted lips ; the blood flowed profusely 
from his wounds, and his closed hand still clutched the hilt of his sword, 
which had been broken in the fight. 

“ Caspita! ” one of the bandits remarked, “ here is a young gentleman 
who is very ill. What will the master say ? ” 

“ What would you have him say, Senor Panchito ? ” another objected. 
* He defended himself like a maddened panther ; it is his own fault ; he 
ought to have been more polite to us. We have lost four men.” 

A fine loss, on my word — those scamps 1 ” Panchito said, with a 
shrug of his shoulders; “I should have preferred his killing six and 
being in a better condition himself.” 

Hang it,” the bandit muttered, “ that is kind towards us.” 

” Present parties excepted,” Panchita added, with a laugh ; “ but quick, 


94 


The Last of the Aucas, 


bind up his wounds and let us be off. This is not a proper place for us, 
and besides, the master is waiting for us.” 

Don Sylvio’s wounds were bathed and bound up somehow or another ; 
and, without troubling themselves whether he was dead or alive, they 
laid him across the horse of Panchito, the leader of this expedition. 
The dead remained on the spot as a prey for the wild beasts. The other 
masked men set out at a gallop, and at the expiration of two hours 
halted in front of the Cave of the Cougars, where Nocobotha and 
Pincheira were waiting for them. 

“ Well,” the former shouted to them as soon as he saw them. 

“ The job is done,” Panchito answered, laconically, as he got off his 
horse, and laid Don Sylvio on a bed of leaves. 

“ Is he dead ? ” Nocobotha asked, turning pale, 

“ Not-much better,” the gaucho answered, with a shake of his head. 

“ Villain 1 ” the Indian shouted, beside himself with fury, ** is that the 
way in which my orders are executed ? Did I not command you to 
bring him to me alive ? ” 

“ Hum ! ” said Panchito, “ I should like to see you try it. Armed 
only with a sword, he fought like ten men for more than twenty minutes. 
He killed four of us, and perhaps we should not have been here now if 
his weapon had not broken.” 

“ You are cowards,” the master said, with a smile of contempt. 

He went up to Don Sylvio’s body. 

“ Is he dead ? ” Pincheira coolly asked him, 

“ No,” Nocobotha replied. 

** All the worse.” 

“ On the contrary, I would give a great deal to see him recover.” 

“Nonsense,” the Chilian officer * said ; “what do we care for this 
man’s life ? Was he not your personal enemy?” 

“ That is the very reason why I should not like him to die.” 

“ I do not understand you.” 

“ My friend,” Nocobotha said, “ I have devoted my life to the accom- 
plishment of an idea to which I have sacrificed my hatreds and friend- 
ships.” 

“ Why in that case lay a trap for your rival P ” 

“ My rival ? No, it is not he whom I have attacked.” 

“ Who then?” 

“ The richest and most influential man in the colony ; the man who 
may thwart my plans; a powerful adversary, a Spaniard, but not a rival. 
Nothing permanent is founded on corpses. I would have willingly killed 
him in battle, but I do not wish to make a martyr of him.” 

“ Nonsense,” Pincheira said, “ one more or one less, what matter ? ” 

“Brute,” Nocobotha thought, “he has not understood a word I 
said.” 

Two gauchos, aided by Panchito, incessantly rubbed with rum 
the temples and chest of Don Sylvio, whose features retained the 
rigidity of death. The Indian chief drew his knife from his girdle, 
wiped the blade, and placed it to the wounded man’s lips. It seemed to 
him as if it were slightly tarnished. He at once kneeled down by the 


Don Torrihios House. 


95 


side of Don Sylvio, raised the cuff of his left coat-sleeve, and pricked 
the vein with the sharp point of his knife. Gradually a black dot 
appeared on the wound, and became enlarged to the size of a pea. This 
drop hesitated, trembled, and at length ran down the arm, pushed on by 
a second drop, that made room for a third ; then the blood became 
less black and less thick, and a long vermilion jet gushed forth, which 
announced life. Nocobotha could not repress a cry of jov : Don Sylvio 
was saved 1 

Almost immediately the young man gave a deep sigh. 

“ Continue the rubbing,” the chief said to the gauchos. 

He bound up Don Sylvio’s arm, rose, and made a sign to Pincheira to 
follow him to another part of the cave. 

“ Heaven has granted my prayer,” the great chief said, “ and I thank 
it for having spared me a crime.” 

If you are satisfied,” the other remarked, in surprise, “ I have no 
objection to offer.” 

“ That is not all. Don Sylvio’s wounds, though numerous, are not 
serious ; his lethargy is the result of the loss of blood and the speed with 
which he was brought here. He will regain his senses presently.” 

“Good.” 

“ He must not see me.” 

“ What next ? ” 

“ Or recognise you.” 

“ That is difficult.” 

“ It is important.” 

“ I will try my best.” 

“ I am about to leave you. You will have Don Sylvio conveyed to 
Carmen.” 

“To your house ? ” 

“ Yes ; it is the safest spot,” Nocobotha said, as he drew from his 
pocket a paper folded after a peculiar fashion ; “ but he must not know, 
under any pretext, that I gave the orders, nor where he is ; and, above 
all, he must not go out.” 

“ Is that all?” 

“Yes, and you will answer to me for his safety.” 

“ On your order I will produce him to you alive or dead.” 

“ Alive, I tell you ; his life is precious to me,” 

“ Well,” Pincheira replied, “ since you are so anxious about your 
prisoner, not a hair of his head shall be touched.” 

“ Thank you, and good-bye, Pincheira.” 

The chief mounted a magnificent mustang, and disappeared in the 
windings of the road. Pincheira returned to the wounded man with a 
look of ill-temper, and twisting his moustache. He was dissatisfied 
with Nocobotha’s orders ; but as he possessed only one virtue, respect 
for his word, he resigned himself. 

“ How is he ? ” he asked Panchito, in a whisper. 

” Not so bad, captain ; it is astonishing what good the blaeding did 
him. He has already opened his eyes twice, and has even attempted to 
speak.” 


.0 


The Last of the Aucas, 


“ In that case, there is no time to be lost. Bind his eyes, and, to pjc- 
vent his tearing the bandage off, fasten his hands to his side ; act gently 
if you can manage it. Do you understand ? " 

“ Yes, captain.” 

“ In ten minutes we start.” 

Don Sylvio, who had gradually regained his senses, asked himself 
into what hands he had fallen. His presence of mind had also returned, 
and he offered no resistance when the gauchos carried out the orders of 
the Chilian officer. These precautions satisfied him that his life would 
not be taken. 

“ Captain, what is to be done now P ” said the gaucho. 

“Carry him to the boat tied up down there; and do not shake him, 
scoundrels, or I will blow out your brains.” 

“ Carai 1 ” the gaucho said, with a grimace. 

“ Yes,” Pincheira said, with a shrug of his shoulders, “ and that will 
teach you to kill people thoroughly another time.” 

Pincheira could not understand why Nocobotha so eagerly desired that 
Don Sylvio should live ; and in his turn the gaucho did not understand 
why Pincheira regretted that he was not dead. The gaucho opened his 
dull eyes in amazement on hearing the chief’s last remark, but hastened 
to obey. 

Don Sylvio was carried down to the boat by Pincheira and two other 
gauchos, while the rest of the party, who took charge of the horses, 
returned to Carmen by land. The voyage in the boat was performed in 
silence, and three hours after the start the prisoner was lying on a bed 
in Don Torribio Carvajal’s house. Then the gag was removed and his 
hands were untied ; but a masked and silent man stood on the threshold 
of the door, like a statue, and never once took his eyes off him. 

Don Sylvio, worn out by the emotions of the day, weakened by 
the loss of blood, and trusting to chance to get him out of his incompre- 
hensible position, took that investigating glance around which is peculiar 
to prisoners, and fell into a heavy sleep, which lasted several hours, and 
restored to his mind all its calmness and original lucidity. 

However, he was treated with the utmost respect, and his slightest 
caprices were satisfied. In fact, his situation was endurable, and, after 
all. was not without a certain spice of originality. Hence the young 
man, feeling reassured, bravely made up his mind to wait for better 
times. On the third day of his captivity his wounds were almost 
cicatrised. He got up to try his strength, and, perhaps, to reconnoitre 
^ the chance of escaping, for what can people think in prison save about 
getting out of it? A warm and cheering sunbeam entered through 
the crack of the closed shutter, and traced long white stripes on the 
ceiling of his room. This sunbeam revived his spirits, and he took 
several steps under the inevitable eye of the dumb and masked watch, 
man. 

All at once a formidable noise broke out in the vicinity, and a dis- 
charge of cannon made the windows rattle. 

“ What is that ? ” he asked the masked man. 

The latter shrugged his shoulders, but made no reply. 


Don Torrihio^s House. gj 


Tlie sharp crack of musketry-fire was mingled with the boom of the 
guns. The dumb man closed the window. Don Sylvio walked up to 
him. 

“ My friend,” he said to him, in a gentle voice, “what is going on 
outside ? ” 

The gaoler remained obstinately silent . 

“ In Heaven’s name speak ! ” 

The noise seemed to draw nearer, and hurried footsteps were mingled 
with the shouts. The man in the mask drew his machete from its 
sheath and his pistol from his belt, and ran to the door, which was sud- 
denly burst open. Another masked bandit, evidently suffering from 
great terror, dashed into the room. 

“ Look out ! ” he shouted. “ We are lost ! ” 

At these words four men, also masked and armed to the teeth, appeared 
in the doorway. 

“ Back ! ” the gaoler cried f “ no one enters here without the pass- 
word.” 

“ There it is,” said one of the new-comers, and he laid him dead with 
a pistol-shot. The four men passed over his body and secured his com. 
panion, who had sought refuge in a corner, and was trembling all over. 
One of them then walked up to the prisoner, who comprehended nothing 
of this scene. 

“You are free, caballero 1 ” he said to him, “ Come, make haste to 
fly far from this house.” 

“ Who are you ? ” the young man asked, 

“ No matter; follow us.* 

“ No ; unless I know who you are.” 

“ Do you wish to see Dona Concha again ? ” the speaker whispered in 
his ear. 

“ I will follow you,” Don Sylvio answered, with a blush. 

“ Senor, take these weapons, which you will perhaps require, as all is 
not finished yet.” 

“ Weapons ! ” the young man exclaimed. “ Oh, you are friends.” 

They went out. 

“ What I ” Don Sylvio said, as he entered the courtyard, “ I am in 
Carmen.” 

“ Were you not aware of it ? ” 

“ No.” 

“ These saddled horses fastened to the rings are ours. Can you sit a 
horse ? ” 

“ 1 hope so.” 

“ You must.” 

“ Mount, then, and let us be off.” ' ^ 

As they turned into the street a dozen horsemen dashed up towards 
them, at a distance of about five-and-twenty paces. 

“ Here is the enemy,” -the stranger said, in a firm voice ; “ take your 
bridles in your teetfi, and let us charge.” 

The four men ranged themselves in a single line, and rushed at the 
new-comers. They discharged firearms and drew their sabre*. 

E. 


98 


The Last of the Jucas, 


“ Carai ! ” shouted Pincheira, who commanded the twelve horsemen* 
•* my prisoner is escaping from me.” 

The Chilian officer darted in pursuit of Don Sylvio, who fired two 
shots at him without relaxing his speed. Pincheira’s horse rolled on 
the ground, dragging down its rider, who got up again, greatly shaken 
by his fall ; but Don Sylvio and his comrades were already far away. 

“ Oh, I shall find them again ! ” he shouted, with rage. 

The fugitives had reached the river’s bank, where a boat was waiting 
for them. 

“ We shall separate here, senor,” the stranger said to Don Sylvio, as 
he removed his mask. 

“ Pedrito ! ” he exclaimed. 

“ Myself I ” the bombero answered. “ This boat will take you to the 
estancia of San Julian. Start without delay, and,” he added, as he 
stooped down to Don Sylvio’s ear, and handed him a folded paper, 
“ read this, and perhaps you will soon be able to come to our assistance. 
Good-bye, senor.” 

One word, Pedrito. Who is the man that held me prisoner ? 

“ Don Torribio Carvajal.” 

“ Thank you.” 

“ Or, if you prefer it, Nocgbotha, the great chief of the Aucas.** 

“ Which of the two ? ” 

“ They are the same.” 

•'* I will remember,” Don Sylvio said, as he leaped into the boat. 

The skiff glided over the water with the speed of an arrow, owing to 
the vigour of the rowers, and soon disappeared in the gathering dark- 
ness. 

Three persons who remained on the bank looked anxiously after the 
movements of the boat. They were Pedrito, Mercedes, and Dona 
Concha* 


CHAPTER XX. 

THE INDIAN CAMP. 

And now, senorita,” Pedrito asked Dona Concha, when the boat was 
out of sight, what are your intentions ? ” 

“To see Nocobothain the camp.” 

“ It is dishonour ; it is death.” 

“ No, Don Pedro, it is revenge,” 

You mean it ? ” 


The Indian Camp, 


99 


•*! am resolved.’’ 

** Good ; I will myself lead you to the camp of the Aucas.” 

All three returned to Don Valentine Cardoso’s house without ex- 
changing a word. Night had completely set in ; the streets were 
deserted, the silent town was illumined by the flames of Poblacion del 
Sur, and the diabolical outlines of the Indians could be seen passing 
among the ruins and crumbling wails. 

“ Go and get ready, sencritas ; I will wait for you here,” Pedrito said, 
with a melancholy accent. 

Mercedes and Dona Concha entered the house. Pedrito, thoughtful 
and sad, sat down on one of the steps in front of the houses. The two 
gills soon reappeared, dressed in full Aucas costume, with painted faces, 
and impossible to recognise, 

“ Ou J " said the bombero, ** here are two real Indian girls.” 

Do you believe,” Dona Concha asked him, “ that Don Torribio alone 
possesses the privilege of changing himself at his pleasure ? ” 

“ Wlio can contend with a woman ? ” Pedrito said, shaking his head ; 

and now, what do you demand of me ? ” 

Your protection to the first Indian lines,” 

And afterwards P ” 

** The rest is our business.” 

“ But you do not intend to remain alone in the midst of the pagans ? ” 
We must, Don Pedro.” 

Mercedes,” the latter continued, “ do you wish to fall again into the 
hands of your persecutors ? ” 

“ Reassure yourself, brother : I run no risk.” 

» Still ” 

** I answer for her,” Dona Concha interrupted him. 

** Well, Heaven be merciful to you I ” he muttered, with an air of 
doubt. 

“ Let us start,” said Don Sylvio’s affianced wife, as she wrapped her- 
self up in a spacious cloak. 

Pedrito walked before them. The dying fires of Carmen lit up the 
night with a pale and uncertain gleam ; a leaden silence brooded over 
the town, only interrupted at intervals by the hoarse croaking of the 
birds of prey that were tearing the Spanish and Indian corpses. The 
three persons walked through the ruins, stumbling against tottering 
walls, striding over bodies, and disturbing the horrible festival of the 
urubus and vuftures, which fled away with heavy wings. They went 
through nearly the entire length of the town, and at length arrived, 
after a thousand windings and difficulties, at one of the barriers that 
faced the Indian camp, the fires of which could be seen sparkling a short 
distance off, and from which fearful yells reached their ears. 

The bombero exchanged a few words with the sentries, and passed 
through the barricade. 

“ Dona Concha,” he said, in a choking voice, “ there is the Indiaa 
camp before us.” 

** I thank you, Don Pedro,” she answered, offering him her hand. 

“ Senorita,” Pedrito added, retaining the young lady’s hand, “ there 


The Last of the Aucas. 


fM 


is still time ; give up your fatal plan, since your betrothed is saved, and 
return to San Julian.” 

“ Good-bye,” Dona Concha answered. 

“ Good-bye,” the man repeated sorrowfully. “ Mercedes, I implore 
you to remain with me.” 

“ Where she goes, I will go, brother.” 

The leave-taking was short, and the bombero, so soon as he was alone, 
uttered a sigh, or rather a burst of sorrow, and returned to Carmen at a 
sharp pace. 

“ I trust I may not arrive too late,” he said to himself, “ and that he 
has not yet seen Don Antonio Valverde.” 

He reached the fort at the moment when Don Torribio and the 
governor were crossing the drawbridge, but, absorbed in his own 
thoughts, he did not perceive the two horsemen. This accide.nt was the 
cause of an irreparable misfortune. 

As for the two girls, they proceeded towards the camp fires, a short 
distance from which they halted to regain breath and calm the move- 
ment of their hearts, which beat as if ready to start from their breasts. 
When near the danger they voluntarily sought, they felt their courage 
abandon them ; the sight of the Indian toldos made their blood run 
cold with terror. Strange to say, it was Mercedes who revived her 
companion’s firmness. 

“ Senorita,” she said to her, I will be your guide ; we will leave 
these cloaks here, which would cause us to be recognised. Walk by my 
side, and whatever may happen, display neither surprise nor fear, and, 
before all, say not a word, or it will be all over with us ! ” 

“ I will obey,” Concha answered. 

“ We are,” Mercedes continued, “ two Indian girls who have made a 
vow to Gualichu for the recovery of their wounded father. Remember, 
not a word, my friend.” 

Let us go on, and may Heaven protect us.” 

“ So be it ! ” Mercedes replied, crossing herself. 

They set out again, and within five minutes entered the camp, where 
the Indians were giving way to the most extravagant joy. Nothing 
could be heard on all sides but songs and yells. Drunk with aguardiente, 
they danced in a burlesque fashion among empty barrels, which they 
had plundered from Poblacion del Sur and the estancias. There was a 
wondrous disorder and a strange confusion, and all these raving mad- 
men even ignored the authority of their ulmens, the majority of whom, 
however, were in a state of the most disgusting intoxication. 

Owing to the general uproar. Concha and Mercedes were enabled to 
cross the camp-lines unseen ; then, with palpitating hearts, limbs rigid 
with terror, but calm faces, they glided like lizards through the groups, 
passing unperceived by the drunken men, who stumbled against each 
other at every moment. The girls seemed lost in this human labyrinth, 
wandering haphazard, and trusting to Providence or their lucky stars to 
discover the abode of the great toqui in this confused mass of toldos. 
They walked about for a long time, but rendered bolder by their success 
In avoiding any unpleasant encounter, and feeling less timid, they 


The Indian Camp. 


lOI 


exchanged at times a hoping glance, till all at once an Indian of athletic 
build seized Dona Concha round the waist, lifted her from the ground 
like a child, and imprinted a hearty kiss on her neck. 

At this unexpected outrage Concha uttered a cry of terror, disengaged 
herself from the Indian’s grasp, and forcibly thrust him away from her. 
The savage tottered on his drunken legs, and measured his length of 
six feet on the ground ; but he sprang up again at once, and leapt on 
the maiden like a jaguar. 

Mercedes interposed between them. 

“ Back ! ” she said, courageously, laying her hand on the Indian's 
chest ; “ this woman is my sister.” 

“ Churlakin,” another chief said, do not put up with an insult.” 

The savage frowned and drew his knife. 

“ Do you wish to kill her ? ” Mercedes exclaimed in horror. 

“ Yes,” Churlakin answered, “ unless she will follow nr.e to my toldo, 
where she will be the squaw of a chief — a great chief.” 

“ You are mad,” Mercedes retorted ; “your toldo is full, and there is 
no room for another fire.” 

“ There is still room for two fires,” the Indian answered, with a laugh ; 
** and since this woman is your sister, you shall come with her.” 

In the course of this discussion an impenetrable circle of savages 
surrounded the two girls and Churlakin. Mercedes did not know how 
to escape the danger. 

“ Well,” Churlakin continued, seizing Dona Concha’s hair, which he 
rolled round his wrist, and brandishing his knife, “ will you and your 
sister follow me to my toldo ? ” 

Dona Concha, who had sunk down to the ground, awaited the death- 
stroke with pallid face and closed eyes. Mercedes drew herself up and 
checked the arm that was ready to strike. 

' “ Since you insist on it, dog 1 ” she said to the chief, in a haughty 

voice, “ your destiny shall be accomplished. Look at me. Gualichu 
does not allow his slaves to be insulted with impunity.” 

She turned her face towards a huge fire flashing a few yards off, and 
which threw a bright light over the surrounding objects. The Indians 
uttered a cry of surprise on recognising her, and fell back. Churlakin 
himself let go of Dona Concha’s hair. 

“ Oh ! ” he said, in consternation, “ it is the white slave of the tree of 
Gualichu 1 ” 

The circle round the two girls had grown larger ; but the superstitious 
Indians, nailed to the ground by terror, looked at them fixedly. 

“ The power of Gualichu,” Mercedes added, “ is great and terrible. 
It is he who sends me ; woe to the man who would try to thwart his 
designs ! ” 

And seizing the arm of Dona Concha, who was still trembling with 
terror, she advanced with a firm step. Waving her arm authoritatively, 
the circle divided, and the Indians fell back to the right and left, making 
way for them to pass. 

“ I feel as if I were dying,” Dona Concha murmured. 

“ Courage, senorita j we are sav«d,” 


102 


The Last of the Aucas, 


** Oh, oh 1 ” a mocking voice said ; “ what is going on here ? * 

And a man placed himself in front of the girls, and looked impudently 
at them. 

“ The matchi ! ” cried the Indians, who, reassured by the presence of 
their sorcerer, again assembled round the prisoners. 

Mercedes trembled inwardly on seeing her stratagem compromised by 
the advent of the matchi, and at the suggestion of despair she made a 
final effort. 

“ Gualichu, who loves the Indians,” she said, “ has sent me to the 
matchi of the Aucas.” 

“ Ah I ” the sorcerer answered, in a mocking accent, ** and what does 
he want with me ? ” 

“ No one but yourself must hear it.” 

The matchi walked up to the maiden, laid his hand on her shoulder, 
and looked hard at her. 

“ Will you save me ? ” she asked him in a low voice. 

“ That depends,” the fellow answered. 

She repressed a look of disgust. 

“ Stay,” she said, as she removed from her arms her rich gold brace- 
lets, set with fine pearls. 

Och ! ” said the Indian, as he concealed them, “ that is fine ; what 
does my daughter want ? ” 

“ Deliver us from these men.” 

« Fly 1 ” the matchi shouted, turning round ; this woman is under an 
evil spell. Fly ! ” 

The sorcerer had immediately put on a face adapted to the circum- 
stances ; his mysterious conversation with the white woman and the 
terror depicted on his features were sufficient for the Indians, who, 
without stopping to ask any questions, dispersed in all directions, and 
disappeared behind the toldos. 

“You see,” the sorcerer said, with a smile of pride, “ I am powerful, 
and can avenge myself on those who deceive me. But where does my 
white daughter come from ? ” 

“ From the tree of Gualichu,” she answered boldly. 

“ My daughter has the forked tongue of the cougar,” the matchi 
replied, who believed neither in his own words nor in his god ; “ does 
she take me for a nandu ? ” 

“ Here is a magnificent collar of pearls which Gualichu gave me for 
the inspired man of the Aucas.” 

“ Oh I ” said the sorcerer j “ what service can I render my 
daughter ? ” 

“ Lead us to the toldo of the great chief.” 

“ Does my daughter desire to speak with Nocobotha ? ” 

“ I do.” 

“ Nocobotha is a wise chief ; will he receive a woman ? ** 

“ He must.” 

“ It is well. But this other woman ?” he asked, pointing to Dona Concha. 

“ She is a friend of Pincheira’s ; she also wishes to speak with the 
great toqui.” 


The Toldo of the Great Toqui* 


lOJ 


“ The warriors will spin wool,” the sorcerer said, shaking his head* 
" since women wage war.” 

“ My father is mistaken ; Nocobotha loves his sister.” 

“ No,” the Indian said. 

“ Will my father make haste ? Nocobotha is waiting for us,” Mercedes 
continued, impatient at the savage’s tergiversation ; “ where is the toldo 
of the great chief ? ” 

“ Follow me, my white daughters.” 

He placed himself between them, seized an arm of each, and guided 
them through the inextricable labyrinth of the camp. The terrified 
Indians fled as they passed. In his heart the matchi was satisfied with 
Mercedes’ presents, and the opportunity for proving to the warriors his 
intimate relations with Gualichu. The marching and counter-marching 
lasted a quarter of an hour, and at last they found themselves before a 
toldo in front of which was planted the token of the united nations, 
surrounded by lances fringed with scarlet, and guarded by four 
warriors. 

“ It is here,” he said to Mercedes. 

“ Good 1 My father will let us go in alone.” 

Must I leave you, then ? ” 

“ Yes, but my father can wait for us outside.” 

“ I will wait,” the sorcerer said briefly, as he looked suspiciously at 
the maidens. 

They went in with sorely beating hearts. The toldo was empty. 


CHAPTER XXI. 

THE TOLDO OF THE GREAT TOQUf. 

Don Antonio Valverde, delighted at the succour the president of the 
Argentine Republic sent him, rode at a gallop by the side of the new 
colonel, Don Torribio. They soon reached a barrier, guarded by a 
large body of gauchos and armed colonists. 

“ We must go out here,” Don Torribio said to the governor ; “ but, 
as the night is dark, and we have one or two leagues to ride, it would 
be imprudent to venture alone upon a plain traversed by vagabond 
Indians.” 

“ That is true,” Don Antonio interrupted him. 

“ The governor must not risk his life lightly ; suppose you were made 
prisoner, for instance, what a blow it would be for the colony i ” 


204 


The Last of the Aucas, 


“ You speak sensibly, Don Torribio. Let us take an escort.” 

** Of how many men ? ” 

Ten will be enough.” 

“We had better take twenty, for we may come across a hundred 
Indians.” 

“ Twenty, then, if you wish it, Don Antonio,” the other answered, 
with a sardonic smile. 

On the governor’s arrival the defenders of the fort had got under 
arms. Don Torribio detailed twenty horsemen, who by his orders 
formed up behind him. 

“ Are we ready to start, governor ? ” 

“ Let us be off.” 

The escort, having the two colonels at its head, started in the direction 
of the plain. Torribio had delighted Don Antonio Valverde for three 
quarters of an hour by the rolling fire of his witty remarks, when he was 
interrupted by him. 

“ Pardon me, colonel,” the governor said anxiously, “ but does it not 
appear singular to you that we have as yet met nobody ? ” 

“ Not the least in the v/orld, senor,” Torribio answered ; “ of course 
they are awaiting my return.” 

“ That is quite possible,” the governor remarked, after a moment’s 
reflection. 

“ In that case we shall have another league to ride.” 

“ Let us go on, then.” 

Don Torribio’s vein of humour was exhausted, while Don Antonio 
remained silent. All at once the distant neighing of a horse reached 
their ears. 

“ What’s that ?” Torribio asked. 

“ Probably the men are seeking.” 

“ In any case let us be prudent. Wait for me ; I will go ahead as 
scout.” 

He galloped forward and disappeared in the gloom. When a certain 
distance off, he dismounted and put his ears to the ground. 

“ Demonios I ” he muttered, as he got up and leapt on to his horse 
again ; “ we are pursued. Can that Satan of a Pedrito have recognised 
me ? ” 

“ What’s the matter ? ” the governor asked. 

“ Nothing,” Torribio replied, laying his left hand on his arm. ** Don 
Antonio Valverde, surrender ; you are my prisoner.” 

“ Are you mad, Don Torribio ?” 

“ No longer call me Don Torribio, senor,” the young man said in a 
hollow voice ; “ 1 am Nocobotha, the great chief of the Patagonian 
natives.” 

“ Treachery 1 ” the governor shouted ; “ help, gauchos, defend me I ** 

“ It is useless, colonel, for those men belong to me.” 

“ I will not surrender,” the governor continued ; Don Torribio, or 
whoever you may be, you are a coward ! ” 

He freed himself from the young man’s grasp by a bound of his horse, 
and drew his sabre. 


The Toldo of the Great Toqui, 


105 


The rapid gallop of several horses was heard. 

“ Can that be help arriving for me ? ” the governor said, as he cocked 
a pistol. 

“ Yes, but too late,” the Indian chief ansWiered coldly. 

By his orders the gauchos surrounded the commandant, who killed 
two of them. From this moment the fight in the dark became frightful. 
Don Antonio, seeing that his life was lost, wished, at least, to die as a 
soldier should die, and fought desperately. 

The sound of the galloping horses constantly drew nearer. 

Nocobotha saw that it was time to finish, and with a pistol-shot killed 
the governor’s horse. Don Antonio rolled on the sand, but, jumping up 
suddenly, he dealt his adversary a sabre-stroke, which the latter parried 
by leaping on one side. 

“ A man such as I am does not surrender to dogs like you 1 ” Don 
Antonio exclaimed, as he blew out his own brains. 

This explosion was followed by a sharp discharge of musketry, and a 
squadron of horsemen rushed like a whirlwind on the gauchos. The 
contest hardly lasted a moment. At a whistle from Nocobotha the 
gauchos turned round and fled separately over the dark plain. Eight 
corpses strewed the ground. 

“ "^oo late ! ” Pedrito said to Major Bloomfield, who had started in 
pi. >it of Don Torribio so soon as the bombero warned him of the peril 
into which the Indian had led the governor. 

“ Yes,” said the major, sorrowfully ; “ he was a good soldier. But how 
Are we to catch the traitors ? ” 

“ They are already in the Indian camp.” 

Pedrito leapt from his horse, cut with his machete a branch of resinous 
fir, which he made into a torch, and by its light examined the bodies 
stretched on the ground. 

“ Here he is ! ” the bombero exclaimed ; “ his skull is fearfully frac- 
tured ; his hand grasps a pistol ; but his face still retains an expression 
of haughty defiance.” 

A tear rolled down Major Bloomfield’s face. 

“ Why was my old friend fated thus to die in an ambuscade ? ” the 
Englishman murmured. 

“ God is the Master,” Pedrito philosophically remarked. 

“ He has performed his duty, so let us perform ours.” 

They raised the body of Don Antonio Valverde, and then the whole 
squadron returned to Carmen. 

Nocobotha, however, we must remark, had only wished to make the 
colonel prisoner in order to treat with the colonists, and shed as littl« 
blood as possible, and he bitterly regretted the governor’s death. While 
the gauchos were rejoicing at the success of the trap, Nocobotha, gloomy 
and dissatisfied, returned to his camp. 

• # A • • # IS 

Mercedes and Dona Concha, on seeing the toldo of the great chief 
unocv^upied, could not repress a sigh of satisfaction. They had the tim« 


The Last of the Aucas, 


106 


to recover from their emotion in his absence, and prepare for the inter- 
viev/ which Concha desired to have with him. They had removed their 
Indian garb in all haste, and resumed their Spanish attire. By an 
accident that favoured the ^lans of Don Sylvio’s betrothed wife, she was 
lovelier and more seductive than usual ; her pallor had a touching and 
irresistible grace about it, and her eyes flashed eager flames of love or 
hatred. 

When Nocobotha arrived in front of the toldo, the matchi walked up 
to him. 

“ What do you want ? ” the chief asked. 

“ My father will pardon me,” the sorcerer answered, humbly, ** This 
night two women have entered the camp.” 

“ What do I care ? ” the chief interrupted him. 

“ These women, though dressed in the Indian fashion, are white,” the 
matchi said. 

“ They are doubtless wives of the gauchos.” 

“ No,” the sorcerer said ; “ their hands are too white, and their feet 
too small. Besides, one of them is the white slave of the tree of 
Gualichu.” 

“ Ah 1 And who made them prisoners ? ” 

“ No one ; they arrived alone.” 

“Alone?” 

“ I accompanied them through the camp, and protected them against 
curiosity.” 

“You acted well.” 

“ I introduced them into my farher’s toldo.” 

“ Are they there now ? ” 

“ For the last hour.” 

“ I thank my brother.” 

Nocobotha took off one of his bracelets and threw it to the matchi, 
who bowed down to the ground. 

The chief, suffering from indescribable agitation, rushed towards his 
toldo, the curtain of which he raised with a feverish hand, and he could 
not restrain a cry of delight and astonishment on hearing Dona Concha’s 
voice. 

The maiden greeted him with one of those strange and charming 
smiles of which women alone possess the secret. 

“ What is the meaning of this ? ” the chief asked, with a graceful bow. 

Dona Concha involuntarily admired the young man ; his splendid 
costume, flashing in the light, heightened his masculine and proud 
attitude, and his head was haughtily erect. He was very handsome, and 
born to command. 

“ By what name shall I address you, caballero ?” she said to him, as 
she pointed to a seat of carved copal-wood by her side. 

“ That depends, senorita. If you address the Spaniard, call me Don 
Torribio ; if you have come to speak to the Indian, my brothers call me 
Nocobotha.” 

“ We shall see,” she said. 

During a momentary silence the two speakers examined each other 


The Toldo of the Great Toquu 


107 


aside. Dona Concha did not know how to begin, and the chief himself 
was seeking the motive for such a visit. 

“ Did you really wish to see me ? ” Nocobotha at length began. 

“ Who else ? ” she replied. 

“ The happiness of seeing you here appears to me a dream, and I fear 
lest I should awake from it.” 

This remark reminded her of Don Valentine Cardoso’s guest, and did 
not agree with the ornaments of an Indian chief and the interior of a 
toldo. 

“Good gracious!” Dona Concha fiaid, lightly, “you are not far re- 
moved from believing me a witch or a fairy, so I will break my 
wand.” 

“ For all that you will not be the less an enchantress,” Nocobotha in- 
terrupted her, with a smile. 

“ The sorcerer is this child’s brother, who revealed to me your real 
name and the spot where I might find you. You must give Pedrito all 
the credit.” 

1 shall not forget it when an opportunity offers,” he answered, with a 
frown, which did not escape Dona Concha’s notice; “but let us return 
to yourself, senorita. Would it be an indiscretion to ask you to what 
extraordinary circumstance I owe the favour of a visit which I did not an- 
ticipate, but which overwhelms me with joy ? ” 

“ Oh, a very simple cause,” she replied, giving him a fiery look. 

“ I am listening, madam.” 

“Perhaps you wish to make me undergo an examination ? ” 

“ Oh ! I trust that you do not think what you are saying.” 

“ Don Torribio, we live in such unhappy times, that a person can 
never be sure of addressing a friend.” 

“ I am yours, madam.” 

“ I hope so, and even believe it, hence I will speak to you in the most 
perfect confidence. A girl of my age, and especially of my rank, does 
not take a step so singular without very serious motives.” 

“ I am convinced of that.” 

“ What can make a woman lay aside her instinctive modesty, and 
cause her to disdain even her reputation ? what feeling inspires her with 
masculine courage ? It is not love, Don Torribio ; love — do you under- 
stand me ? ” 

“ Yes, madam,” he answered, with emotion. 

“ Well, I have said it ; it is a question of my heart and of yours — 
perhaps — Don Torribio. At our last interview my father announced 
rather suddenly, both to you and me, my approaching marriage with 
Don Sylvio d’Arenal. I had thought you loved me ” 

“ Senorita I ” 

“ But at that moment I became certain of it ; I saw your sudden pallor ; 
your voice was troubled.” 

“ Still I ” 

“ I am a woman, Don Torribio ; we women guess a man’s love before 
a man himself does so.” 

The Indian chief gcized at her with an undefinable expression. 


io8 


The Last of the Aucas, 


“A few days later,” she continued, “ Don Sylvio fell into an ambuscade 
Why did you do that, Don Torribio ? ” 

“ I wished to avenge myself on a rival, but I did not order his death.” 

“ I knew it.” 

Nocobotha did not understand her. 

“You had no rival — ^you had scarce left the house ere I confessed to 
♦my father that I did not love Don Sylvio, and would not marry him.” 

“ O Heavens I ” the young man exclaimed, sorrowfully. 

“ Reassure yourself, the misfortune is repaired ; Don Sylvio is not 
dead.” 

“ Who told you so ? ” 

“ I know it, I know it so well that Don Sylvio, torn from Pincheira’s 
hands by my orders, is at this moment at the estancia de San Julian, 
whence he will shortly set out for Buenos Ayres.” 

“ Can I ” 

“ That is not all. I made my father understand towards whom my 
heart turned, and whose love it confided in, and my father, who has never 
been able to refuse me anything, permitted me to go and join the man 
whom I prefer.” 

She gave Don Torribio a glance full of love, looked down and blushed. 
A thousand contradictory feelings were contending in Nocobotha’s heart, 
for he did not dare believe that which rendered him so happy ; a doubt 
remained, a cruel doubt — suppose she were trifling with him ? 

“ What ! ” he said, “ you love me ?” 

“ My presence here ” she stammered. 

“ Happiness renders me confused, so forgive me.” 

“ If I did not love you,” she answered, “ Sylvio is free and I could 
marry him.” 

“ Oh women I adorable creatures, who will ever sound the depths of 
your hearts ! who can divine the sorrow or joy you conceal in a glance 
or in a smile ? Yes, senorita, I love you, and I wish to tell you so on my 
knees.” 

And the great chief of the Patagonian nations threw himself at Dona 
Concha’s feet ; he pressed her hands and covered them with burning 
kisses. The maiden, who held her head erect, while he lay thus pro- 
strate before her, had a ferocious delight in her eyes ; she had repeated 
the eternal allegory of the lion that surrenders its claws to the scissors 
of love. This man, so powerful and formidable, was conquered, and 
henceforth she was sure of her vengeance. 

“ What shall I tell my father ? ” she said in a voice gentle as a caress. 

The lion rose with flashing eyes and radiant brow. 

“Madam,” he answered, with supreme majesty, “tell Don Valentine 
Cardoso that within a month I shall place a crown on your beloved fore- 
head.” 


CHAPTER XXII, 


DELILAH. 

Tt Is ’•are for an extreme situation, when drawn to its utmost limits, tO 
remain long in a state of tension ; hence it is not surprising that Noco- 
botha, after advancing so far in his confiding love, should recoil terrified 
at the progress he had made. Man is so constituted that too much 
happiness embarrasses and alarms him, and it is, perhaps, a foreboding 
that this happiness will be of short duration. The Indian chief, whose 
heart overflowed like a brimming cup, felt a vague doubt mingle with 
his joy, and obscure it with a cloud. Still, it is pleasant to flatter one’s 
self, and the young man yielded to this new intoxication and the 
pleasures of hope. These smiles, these looks, everything reassured him. 
Why had she come to him through so many dangers ? She loves me, he 
thought, and love intensified the bandage which Dona Concha had 
fastened over his eyes with so much grace and perfidy. 

Men of lofty intellect are nearly all unconsciously affected by a weak- 
ness that frequently causes their ruin, the more so because they believe 
nobody clever enough to cheat them. Had Nocobotha nothing to fear 
from this girl of fifteen, who avowed her love with, such simplicity ? 
But as his mind was, so to speak, turned away from real life to be 
absorbed in a single dream — the independence of his country — Nocobotha 
had never essayed to read that enigmatical book called a woman’s 
heart ; he was ignorant that a woman, especially an American woman, 
never forgives an insult offered to her lover, for he is her deity and is 
inviolable. 

The man loved for the first time, and this first love, which is so sharp 
that at a later date all other loV^es grow pale at the mere remembrance 
of it, had sunk deeply into his heart. I^e loved, and the transient doubt 
which had saddened his thoughts could not struggle against a thought 
which was now irradicable. 

Can I,” Concha asked, “ remain in your camp without fear of being 
insulted, until my father arrives ? ” 

“Command me, madam,” the other answered ; “ you have only slaves 
here.” 

“ This girl, to whom you owe my presence here, will proceed to the 
^»tancia of San Julian.” 

A-Iocobotha walked to the curtain of the toldo and clapped his hands 
rwice. Lucaney appeared. 

“ Let a toldo be prepared for me, I give up this one to the two pale- 
lace women,” t>e chief said in the Aucas tongue, “ A band of picked 


no 


The Last of the Aucas. 


warriors, selected by my brother, will watch over their safety night and day. 
Woe to the man who fails in respect to them ! These women are sacred 
and free to come and go and receive any visitors they think proper. 
Have two horses saddled for me and for one of the white women.” 

Lucaney went out. 

“ You see, madam, that you are the queen here.” 

Dona Concha drew from her bosom a letter written beforehand and 
unsealed, which she handed to him, with a smile on her lips, but trem- 
bling at her heart. 

“ Read, Don Torribio, what I have written to my father.” 

“ Oh, senorita ! ” he exclaimed, thrusting the note away. 

Dona Concha slowly folded the letter without any apparent emotion, 
and delivered it to Mercedes. 

“ My child, you will give this to my father when alone, and explain to 
him what I have forgotten to say.” 

“ Permit me to withdraw, madam.” 

“ No,” Concha replied, with a bewitching smile, I have no secrets 
from you.” 

The young man smiled at this remark. At this moment the horses 
were brought up, and Dona Concha found time to whisper in Mercedes* 
ear the hurried words: “Your brother must be here in an hour.” 

Mercedes slightly closed her eyes as a sign of intelligence. 

“ I will accompany your friend myself,” the chief said, “ as far as the 
entrenchments of Carmen.” 

“ I thank you, Don Torribio.” 

The two maidens tenderly embraced. 

In an hour,” Dona Concha murmured. 

“ Good,” Mercedes answered. 

“ You are at home here, madam,” Nocobotha said to Dona Concha, 
who accompanied him to the entrance of the toldo. 

Mercedes and the chief mounted their horses, the young Spanish girl 
followed them with eye and ear, and then re-entered the toldo. 

“The game has begun, and he must reveal his plans to me.” 

In a quarter of an hour Mercedes and her guide came within fifty 
yards of Carmen without having exchanged a word. 

“ Here,” said Nocobotha, “you no longer require my services.” 

He turned back and galloped towards the camp. The girl advanced 
boldly in the direction of the town, whose gloomy outline rose before her. 
But a vigorous hand seized her bridle, she felt a pistol placed 
against her bosom, and a low voice said in Spanish — 

“ Who goes there ? ” 

“ A friend,” she replied, suppressing a shriek of terror. 

“ Mercedes ! ” the rude voice exclaimed, becoming much softer. 

“ Pedrito I ” she replied, joyously, as she slipped into the arms of her 
brother, who embraced her affectionately. 

“Where do you come from, little sister?** 

“ From the camp of the Patagonians.’* 

« Already ? ” 

** My mistress has sent me to you.” 


Delilah, 


111 


‘‘ Who accompanied you P ” 

‘‘ Nocobotha himself.” 

“ Malediction ! ” the bombero said, “ for live minutes I had him at 
the end of my rifle. Well, but come, we will talk inside.” 

“ Oh ! ” Pedrito exclaimed, when Mercedes ended the narration of 
their expedition, “ oh, women are demons, demons, and men plucked 
ch'ckens ; and your letter ? ” 

“ Here it is.” 

“ Don Valentine must receive it to-night, for the poor father will bo 
pining in mortal anxiety.” 

“ I will carry it,” said Mercedes. 

“ No ; you need rest. I have a safe man here, who will ride to the 
estancia. You, little sister, come into the house, where a worthy woman, 
who knows me, will take care of you.” 

“ Will you go to Dona Concha ?” 

“ I should think so. Poor girl 1 alone among the pagans,” 

“ Ever devoted, my kind brother ! ” 

“ It seems that is my vocation.” 

Pedrito led Mercedes to the house he had referred to, warmly recom* 
mended her to the hostess, and then turned into a street, in the middle 
of which a large fire was burning, and several men reposing round it, 
wrapped in their cloaks. The bombero roughly shook the foot of one 
of the sleepers. 

“Come, come, Patito,” he said to him, “up with you, my boy, and 
gallop to the estancia of San Julian.” 

“ Why, I have just come from there,” the gaucho muttered, yawning 
and rubbing his eyes. 

“ The better reason ; you must know the road. It is Dona Concha 
who sends you.” 

“ If the senorita wishes it, of course,” Patito said, whom the name 
thoroughly aroused. “ What am I to do ? ” 

“ Mount your horse and carry this letter to Don Valentine]; it is an 
important letter, you understand.” 

“ Very good.” 

“ Let nobody take it fr'om you,” 

“ Of course not.” 

“ If you are killed ” 

“ I shall be killed.” 

“ When you are dead it must not even be found on you.** 

“ I will swallow it.” 

“ The Indians will not think of ripping you up,” 

“ A,1 right ” 

“ Be off.” 

“ Only give me time to saddle my horse.” 

“ Good-bye, Patito, and luck be with you.” 

Pedrito left the gaucho, who speedily started. 

“ It is now my turn,” the bombero muttered. “ How am I to reacll 
Dona Concha ?” 

iie scratched his head and frowned, but ere long his forehead became 


The Last of the Aucas. 


TT'i 


linwrinkled, and he proceeded gaily to the fort. After a conference witii 
Major Bloomfield, who had succeeded Don Antonio Valverde in com- 
mand of the town, Pedrito doffed his clothes, and disguised himse.f as 
an Aucas. He then set out, slipped into the Indian camp, and shortly 
before sunrise was back again in the town. 

“Well,” his sister said to him. 

“ All goes well,” the bombero answered. “ Viva Dios ! Nocobotha, 
i fancy, will pay dearly for carrying off Don Sylvio. Oh, women are 
demons ! ” 

“ Am I to go and join her?” 

“ No ; it is unnecessary.” 

‘‘ And, without entering into any details, Pedrito, who was worn out 
with fatigue, selected a place to sleep in, and snored away, not troubling 
himselt about the Indians. 

Several days elapsed ere the besiegers renewed their attack on the 
town, which, however, they invested more closely. The Spaniards, 
strictly blockaded, and having no communication with the exterior, 
found their provisions running short, and hideous famine would soon 
pounce on its victims. Fortunately, the indefatigable Pedrito had an 
idea which he communicated to Major Bloomfiell. He had a hundred 
and fifty loaves worked up with arsenic water, and vitriol mingled with 
twenty barrels of spirits ; the whole, loaded on mules, was placed under 
the escort of Pedrito and his two brothers. The bomberos approached 
the Patagonian earthworks with this frugal stock of provisions. The 
Indians, who are passionately fond of firewater, rushed to meet the 
caravan, and seize the barrels. Pedrito and his brothers left their 
burden lying on the sand, and returned to the town at a gallop with the 
mules, which were intended to support the besieged if the Patagonians 
did not make the assault. 

There was a high holiday in the camp. The loaves were cut up ; the 
heads of the barrels stove in, and nothing was left. This orgie cost 
the Indians six thousand men, who died in atrocious tortures. The 
others, struck with horror, began disbanding in all directions. The 
chiefs were no longer respected. Nocobotha himself saw his authority 
wavering before the superstition of the sava'ges, who believed in a 
celes ial punishment. The prisoners, men, women, and children, were 
massacred with horrible refinements of barbarity. Dona Concha, 
though protected by the great chief, only owed her escape to chance or 
to God, who preserved her as the instrument of His will. 

The rage of the Indians, having no one left to vent itself on, gradually 
calmed down. Nocobotha went about constantly to restore courage. 
He felt that it was time to come to an end, and he gave Lucaney orders 
to assemble the chiefs. 

“ Great chiefs of the great nations,” Nocobotha said to them, as soon 
as they were all collected round the council-fire, “ to-morrow, at day- 
break, Carmen will be attacked on all sides at once. So soon as the 
town is taken the campaign will be over. Those who recoil are not 
men, but slaves. Remember that we are fighting for the liberty of our 
race.” 


Delilah. 




He then intormed each chief of the place of his tribe in the assault ; 
formed a reserve of ten thousand men to support, if necessary, those 
who gave way, and, after cheering up the ulmens, he dismissed them. 
So soon as he was alone, he proceeded to Dona Concha’s toldo. The 
young lady gave Lucaney orders to admit him. Dona Concha was 
talking with her father, who, on receiving her letter, at once hastened to 
her. 

The interior of the toldo was completely altered, for Nocobotha had 
placed in it furniture carried off from the estancias by the Indians. 
Externally nothing was changed, but inside it was divided by partitions, 
and rendered a perfect European residence. Here Concha lived 
pleasantly enough, honoured by the supreme chief and in the company 
of her father and Mer edes, who acted as her lady’s maid. 

The Indians, though somewhat astonished at their great toqui’s mode 
of lif^, remembeted the European education he had received, and did 
not complain. Was not Nocobotha’s hatred of the white men still 
equally ardent ? Were not his words still full of love for his country at 
the council-fire ? Was it not he who had directed the invasion and led 
the tribes on the path of liberty ? Hence, Nocobotha had lost nothing 
in the opinion of the warriors. He was still their well-beloved chief. 

“ Is the effervescence of the tribes appeased ? ” Dona Concha asked 
Nocobotha. 

“Yes, Heaven be thanked, senorita; but the man commanding at 
Carmen is a wild beast. Six thousand men have been killed by poison.’* 

“ Oh, it is fearful,” the young lady said. 

“ The whites are accustomed to treat us thus, and poison ” 

“ Say no more about it, Don Torribio ; it makes me shudder.” 

“ For centuries the whites have been our murderers.” 

“ What do you intend doing?” Don Valentine asked, in order to turn 
the conversation. 

“ To-morrow, senor, a gen.cral assault will be made on Carmen.” 

“ To-morrow ? ” 

“ Yes. To-morrow I shrill have destroyed the Spaniards’ power in 
Patagonia, or be dead myswif,” 

“God will protect the good cause,” Donra Concha said^ in a prophetic 
voice. 

A cloud passed over Don Valentine’s forehead. 

“ During the battle, which will be obstinate, I implore you, senorita, 
not to leave this toldo, before which I will leave twenty men on guard.” 

“ Are you going to leave us already, Don Torribio ? ” 

“ 1 must ; so excuse me, madam.” 

“ Good-bye, then,” Dona Concha said. 

“ All is over ! ” Don Valentine murmured, in despair, when Nocobotha 
had gone out. “ 1 hey will succeed.” 

The maiden, who was calm and half smiling, but whose eye was in- 
flamed with hatred, walked up to Don Valentine, clasped her hands on 
his shoulder, and said, in a whisper — 

“ Have you read the Bible, father ? ” 

“Yes; when I was young.” 


The Last of the Aucas. 


J14 


“ Do you remember the history of Samson and Delilaih f * 
*• Do you mean to cut his hair ofiF, then ? ” 

“ Do you remember Judith and HolofernesP* 

“ Then you mean to cut his head off ? ” 

“No, father." 

“ What mean these strange questions P* 

“ I love Don Sylvio 1 ” 


CHAPTER XXIIL 

THE AGONY OF A TOWN. 

About two in the morning, at the moment when the blue jay stmck np 
its first song, faint as a sigh, Nocobotha, completely armed for war, left 
his toldo, and proceeded to the centre of the camp. Here the ulmens, 
apo-ulmens, and caraskens were squatting on their heels round an 
immense fire, and smoking in silence. All rose on the arrival of the 
supreme toqui, but at a signal from the master they resumed their seats. 
Nocobotha then turned to the matchi, who was walking gravely by his 
side, and to whom he had dictated his orders beforehand. 

“ Will Gualichu,” he asked him, “be neutral, adverse, or favourable in 
the war of his Indian sons against the pale-faces ? " 

The sorcerer went up to the fire, and walked round it thrice from left 
to right, muttering unintelligible words. At the third round he filled a 
calabash with sacred water contained in closely-plaited reeds, sprinkled 
the assembly, and threw the rest towards the east. Then, with body 
half bent and head advanced, he stretched out his arms, and appeared 
listening to sounds perceptible to himself alone. 

On his right hand the blue jay poured forth its plaintive note twice in 
succession. Suddenly the matchi’s face was disfigured by horrible 
grimaces ; his blood-suffused eyes swelled ; he turned pale and trembled 
as if suffering from an ague fit. 

“ The spirit is coming ! the spirit is coming ! ” the Indians said. 

“ Silence ! ” Nocobotha commanded ; “ the sage is about to 
speak." 

In fact, obeying this indirect order, he whistled guttural sounds 
between his teeth, among which the broken words could be de- 
tected — 

“The spirit is marching!” he exclaimed; “he has unfastened his 
lo-ng hair, which floats in the wind ; his breath spreads death around. 
The skj is red with blood ! Gualichu, the prince of evil, will not want 


The Agony of a Town, 




for victims. The flesh of the pale-faces serves as a sheath for the 
knives of the Indians. Do you hear the urubiis and vultures in the 
distance ? What a splendid meal they will have ! Utter the war-yell > 
Courage, warriors, Gualichu guides you — death is nothing ; glory every, 
thing.” 

The sorcerer still continued to stammer, and rolled on the ground, 
suffering from a fit of epilepsy. Then the Indians pitilessly turned away 
from him, for the man who is so rash as to touch the matchi when the 
spirit is torturing him would be struck by a sudden death. Such is the 
Indian belief. 

Nocobotha addressed the audience in his turn. “ Chiefs of the great 
nations, as you see, the God of our fathers is with us, and He wishes our 
land to become free again. The sun, when it sets, must not see a Spanish 
flag waving in Peru. Courage, brothers I the Aucas, my ancestors, who 
hunt on the blessed prairies of the Eskennan, will joyfully receive among 
them those who may fall in battle. Each will proceed to his post ! the 
cry of the urubu, repeated thrice at equal intervals, will be the signal for 
the assault.” 

The chiefs bowed and withdrew. 

The night, studded with stars, was calm and imposing. The moon 
studded with a pale silver the dark blue of the firmament. There was 
not a breath in the air, not a cloud in the sky ; the atmosphere was 
serene and limpid ; nothing disturbed the silence of this splendid night, 
except the dull, vague murmur which seems on the desert to be the 
breathing of sleeping Nature. 

A thousand varied feelings were confounded in the mind of Nocobotha. 
who thought of the approaching deliverance of his country and his love 
for Dona Concha. Then raising his eyes to the star-studded vault of 
heaven, the Indian fervently implored the Omnipotent to fight on his 
side. If he had been compelled to choose between his love and the 
cause he defended, he assuredly would not have hesitated ; for the happi- 
ness of an individual is as nothing when compared with the liberty of an 
entire nation. 

While the toqui was plunged in these reflections a hand was laid 
heavily on his shoulder. It was the matchi, who looked at him with his 
tiger-cat eyes. 

“ What do you want ? ” he asked him, drily. 

“ Is my father satisfied with me ? Did Gualichu speak well ? ” 

“Yes,” the chief said, repressing a start of disgust. “With- 
draw.” 

“ My father is great and generous.” 

Nocobotha contemptuously threw one of his rich necklaces to the 
wretched sorcerer, who made a grimace to show his joy. 

“ Begone ! ” he said to him. 

The matchi, satisfied with his reward, went away. The trade of an 
Indian sorcerer is a famous one. 

“ I have the time,” Nocobotha muttered, after calculating the hours by 
the position of the stars. 

He hastily bent his steps towards Dona Concha’s toldo. 


tl6 


The Last of the Aucas. 


** She is there,” he said to himself ; ** she is sleeping, lulled by her 
childish dreams; her lips are opened like a flower to inhale the perfumed 
breath of night. She is slumbering with her hand upon her heart to 
defend it. And I love her ! Grant, O Heaven, that I may render her 
happy I Help my arm, which wishes to save a people ! ” 

He went up to a warrior standing at the entrance to the toldo. 

“ Lucaney,” he said, in a voice that was powerfully affected, ** I have 
saved you from death.” 

“ I remember it.” 

“ All I love is in that toldo : I entrust it to you.” 

This toldo is sacred, my father.” 

“Thanks!” Nocobotha said, affectionately pressing the hand of the 
ulmen, who kissed the hem of his robe. 

The ulmens, after the council was over, had drawn up their tribes in 
readiness for the assault ; the warriors, lying down flat on the ground, 
began one of those astounding marches which Indians alone are capable 
of undertaking. Gliding and crawling like lizards through the lofty 
grass, they succeeded, within an hour, in placing themselves unnoticed 
at the very foot of the entrenchments. This movement had been 
executed with the refined prudence the Indians display on the war trail. 
The silence of the prairie had not been disturbed, and the town seemed 
buried in sleep. 

Some minutes, however, before the ulmens received Nocobotha’s 
final orders, a man dressed in the costume of the Aucas, had left the 
camp before them all, and made his way to Carmen on his hands and 
lyiees. On reaching the first barricades he held out his hands to an 
invisible hand, which hoisted him over the wall. 

“ Well, Pedrito ? ” 

“ We shall be attacked, major, within an hour.” 

“ Is it an assault ? ” 

“ Yes ; the Indians are afraid of being poisoned like rats, and hence 
wish to come to an end.” 

“ What is to be done r ” 

“ We must die.” 

“ By Jupiter ! that’s fine advice.” 

“ We may still try ” 

“ What ? ” 

“ Give me twenty faithful gauchos.” 

“ Take them ; and what then ? ” 

Leave me to act, major. I do not answer for success, as these 
red demons are as numerous as flies ; but I shall certainly kill some of 
them.” 

“ And the women and children ? ” 

“ I have shut them up in the estancia of San Julian.” 

“ Heaven be praised ! ” 

“ But, by the way, they will attack the estancia if they take Carmen.” 

“ You’re a humbug, Pedrito,” the major said, with a smile. “You forget 
Dona Concha.” 

“ That is true,” the bombero remarked, gaily j “ I did not think of the 


The Jgony of a Town, 




senorita. I also forgot this — the signal for the attack will be an urubu 
cry, repeated at three equal intervals.” 

“ Good I I will go and prepare, for I do not expect they will wait for 
sunrise.” 

The ntiajor on one side, and the bombero on the other, proceeded from 
post to post to awake the defenders of the town, and warn them to be on 
their guard. 

On that very evening Major Bloomfield had convened all the inhabi. 
tants ; and in a short and energetic harangue depicted to them their 
desperate situation. 

“ The boats tied up under the guns of the fort,” he said, in con- 
clusion, “ are ready to receive the women, children, and any frightened 
men. They will be removed during the night to the estancia of San 
Julian.” 

The inhabitants stationed themselves behind the barricades with eye 
and ear on the watch and musket in hand. An hour was spent in 
watching, when suddenly the hoarse, ill-omened cry of the urubu broke 
the silence. A second cry followed the first closely, and the last note of 
the third was still vibrating when the clamour burst forth on all sides 
simultaneously, and the Indians dashed forward tumultuously to scale 
the outer entrenchments. They broke against the living wall that 
rose at the barriers. Astounded by this unexpected resistance, the 
Indians fell back, and were decimated by the canister, which spread 
desolation and death among their ranks. 

Pedrito, profiting by the panic of the red-skins, dashed after them at 
the head of his gauchos, and cut them down vigorously. 

After two hours of terrific fighting, the sun, disdainful of human con- 
test, majestically rose on the horizon and spread i*he splendour of its 
beams over the field of carnage. The Indians saluted its apparition with 
shouts of joy, and rushed with much rage at the entrenchments — their 
shock was irresistible. 

Tne colonists fled, pursued by the savages. But a formidable 
explosion upheaved the ground beneath their feet, and the hapless 
Indians, hurled into the air, fell dead all around. It was a mine the 
Argentines had fired. 

The Indians, wild with terror, and deaf to the voice of their ulmens, 
fled, and refused to begin the engagement again. 

Nocpbotha, mounted on a splendid charger, black as night, dashed 
forward, almost alone, and waved the sacred totem of the united 
nations, shouting in a voice heard above the din of battle — 

“ Cowards who refuse to conquer, at least see me die ! ” 

This cry sounded in the ears of the Indians as a shameful reproach, 
and they ran after their chief. 

Nocobotha appeared invulnerable. He made his horse curvet, 
rushed into the thickest of the fight, parried every blow with the staff 
of the totem, which he raised above his head, and shouted to his 
men — 

“ Courage, follow me I ” 

•• Nocobotha, the last of the Aucas 1 let us die for the child of the 


1x8 


The Last of the Aucas. 


sun ! ” the Indians shouted, electrified by the rash boldness of their 
toqui. 

“ Ah ! ” he exclaimed, enthusiastically pointing to the planet of 
day, “ see I my radiant father smiles on our valour. Forward, for- 
ward ! ” 

“ Forward I ” the warriors repeated, and redoubled their fury. 

All the town was already invaded, and the fighting went on from 
house to house. The Aucas formed in close columns, and, led by 
Nocobotha, dashed up the eastern steep street that runs to old Carmen and 
the citadel. They advanced fearlessly, in spite of the incessant fire 
from the guns of the fort. Nocobotha, respected by death, and 
ever in front, brandished his totem, and made his black horse 
rear. 

“ Well,” Major Bloomfield said, mournfully, to Pedrito, the hour has 
arrived.” 

“ Do you wish it, major? ” 

“ i insist on it.” 

“That is enough,” the bombero added. “ Good-bye, major, till vre 
meet again in another world.” 

The two men shook hands : it was a final leave-taking, for, unless a 
miracle occurred, they were about to die. After this farewell Pedrito 
collected fifty horsemen, formed them into a close squadron, and between 
two discharges from the battery, they dashed at full speed upon the 
ascending Indians. The red-skins opened right and Jeft before this 
avalanche that rushed down the mountain ; and they had scarce recovered 
from their stupor ere they perceived the Spanish horsemen in three boats, 
pulling out to sea with all their might. 

Taking advantage of this bold diversion, all the colonists, by Major 
Bloomfield’s direction, shut themselves up in the fort. 

Nocobotha made the Aucas a sign to halt, and advanced alone up to 
the walls of the citadel. 

“ Major,” he shouted, in a firm voice, “ surrender ; you and your men 
will be allowed to live.” 

“You are a traitor and a dog,” the major, who at once appeared, 
answered. 

“ You are warned, you and your men.” 

“ I will not surrender.” 

Twenty bullets whistled from the top of the wall, but Nocobotha had 
returned to his warriors with the rapidity of an arrow. 

“ Back, back,” he shouted to them. 

A detonation, loud as a hundred peals of thunder, rent the air. The 
major had blown up the powder in the fortress. The stony giant 
oscillated for two or three seconds on its base like an intoxicated 
mastodon ; then, suddenly torn from the ground, it rose in the air, and 
burst like an over-ripe pomegranate, amid expiring cries of “ Long live 
our country I ” 

A shower of stones and horridly mutilated corpses fell on the terrified 
Indians. 

All was over. Nocobotha was master of the ruins of Carmen, 


The Last of the Aucas, 


1 19 


Weeping with rage on seeing this disastrous victory, he planted his 
totem on a piece of tottering wall, which was the only relic of the fort 
and its defenders. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

THE LAST OF THE AUCAS. 

The principal houses of the town were only spared from pillage ; and 
Nocobotha, in order to save their riches, granted them to the most 
powerful chiefs. As for himself, he established his head-quarters in his 
own mansion in old Carmen. Don Valentine and his daughter took 
possession of their house, which had escaped the fury of the Indians, 

The town offered an image of desolation. 

A week after the capture of the colony, at about ten in the morning, 
three persons were conversing in a low voice in Don Valentine’s saloon. 
They were Don Valentine himself, his daughter, and the capataz. The 
latter, in his gaucho dress, had the look of a thorough bandit. Mercedes, 
standing as sentry at a window, was laughing heartily at him, to the 
great despair of the capataz, who most sincerely wished his confounded 
disguise at the deuce. 

“ Bias, my friend,” Don Valentine was saying, “get yourself ready for 
a dance.” 

“ Then the ceremony is to take place to-day ? ” 

“Yes, Bias. I must confess that we live in singular times, and a 
singular country. I have seen several revolutions, but this one beats 
them all.” 

“ From the Indian point of view,” Concha said, “ it is very logical.” 

“ Which of you, a month ago, expected such a sudden re-establish- 
ment of the erhpire of the Aucas ? ” 

“ Not I,” the capataz replied. “ Still, it seems to me that Nocobotha 
is not at all magnanimous for a future emperor.” 

“ What do you mean by that, my friend ? ” 

“ Has he not written to Don Sylvio that, if he does not leave the 
colony in three days, he will have him hung ? ” 

“ Before hanging people,” said Dona Concha, “ it is necessary to catch 
them.” 

“ All that is very fine. Bias, but you will return ^to the estancia. Above 
all, do not forget my instructions.” 

“ Trust to me for that, excellency ; but I am anxious about Pedrito," 
he added, in a low voice, not to be overheard by' Mercedes ; “ he has 


l%0 


The Last of the Aucas, 


disappeared for the last six days, and we have heard nothing about 
him.” 

" Don Pedro,” Concha remarked, “ is not the man to be lost witnout 
leaving traces. Reassure ycoirself we shall see him again.” 

“ Nocobotha ! ” Mercedes exclaimed, turning round. 

“ Bias, my friend, decamp,” Don Valentine said. 

“ Come again soon,” Mercedes added. 

Nocobotha walked in. The great chief of the Aucas, dressed in his 
magnificent Indian costume, had a thoughtful brow and anxious look. 
After the first compliment. Dona Concha, alarmed by the chief’s gloomy 
appearance, bent forward gracefully to him, and said, with an affectionate 
air, which was admirably assumed — 

“ What is the matter with you, Torribio ; you seem troubled P Have 
you received any unpleasant news ? ” 

“ No, madam, I thank you. If I were really ambitious, all my wishes 
would be fulfilled. The chiefs have resolved on re-establishing the 
empire of the Aucas, and they have elected me, wl;o am the direct heir, 
to succeed the unfortunate Athahualpa ; but ” 

“ They have done you justice.” 

“ This distinction terrifies me, and I fear I cannot bear the weight of 
an empire. The wounds dealt my race by the Spaniards are old and 
deep. The Indians have been brutalised by a long servitude. What a 
task it is to command these disunited tribes I Who will carry on my 
work if I die in twenty years, two years, to-morrow, perhaps ? What 
will become of the dream of my life ? ” 

“ Heaven means you to live long, Don Torribio,” Dona Concha 
answered. 

A diadem on my brow ! Stay, senorita : I am discouraged, weary 
of life ; it seems to me that the crown will press my temples like a 
band of iron, and crush them, and that I shall be buried in my 
triumph ! ” 

“ Dismiss these vain presentiments,” the girl remarked, giving a side 
glance full of meaning. 

“ As you know, madam, the Tarpeian Rock is close to the Capitol.” 

“Come, come, Don Torribio,” Don Valentine said, gaily; “let us 
take our places.” 

A splendid breakfast had been laid. The first moments pas.sed in 
silence. The guests seemed embarrassed, but by degrees, thanks to 
Dona Concha’s efforts, the conversation became more animated. 
Nocobotha, it could be easily seen, was making a violent effort to drive 
back the flood of thoughts that ran to his lips. Towards the end of 
the repast he turned to the young lady. 

“ Senorita,” he said, “ this evening all will be over. I shall be emperor, 
and sworn enemy of the Spaniards, who will doubtless return with 
arms in their hands to overthrow our empire. What they most dread in 
an Indian insurrection is the reprisals, that is to say, the massacre of 
the white men. My marriage with you is a pledge of peace for your 
countrymen, and a security for their commerce. Dona Concha, give me 
your hand.” 


The Last of the Aucas, 


t2t 


“What hurry is there at this moment, Don TorribioP” she asked. 
** Are you not sure of me ? ” 

“ Ever the same vague and obscure answer,” the chief said, with a 
frown. “ Child, you are playing with a lion, and I see to the bottom of 
your heart. Imprudent girl, you are rushing on your own destruction ; 
but you are in my power; and after saving your life ten times I offer 
you half a throne. To-morrow, madam, you will and must marry 
me. Your father’s and Don Sylvio’s heads will answer for your 
obedience.” 

And seizing a crystal bottle full of limpid water, he filled his glass to 
the brim, and emptied it at a draught, while Dona Concha gazed at him 
fixedly ; this look contained a cruel and concealed joy. 

“ In an hour,” he added, as he placed the glass on the table again, 
“you will be present at the ceremony by my side ; I insist on it.” 

“ I will be there,” she replied. 

“ Farewell, madam.” 

The young lady rose quickly, seized the bottle, and walked up to the 
window. 

“ What are you going to do there ? ” Don Valentine asked. 

“ I am watering my flowers, father.” 

While pouring out the water, Concha, whose eyes sparkled with a 
gloomy fire, muttered to herself — 

“ Don Torribio, you told me one day that there’s many a slip betwixt 
the cup and the lip ; well, lis'.en to me in my turn ; between your fore- 
head and a crown there is death.” 

She then placed two flower-pots near the balustrade on the terrace of 
the house. This was doubtless a signal, for in a few minutes Mercedes 
entered the saloon hurriedly, saying — 

“ He is here.” 

“ Let him come in,” Don Valentine and his daughter said, simulta- 
neously. 

Pedrito made his appearance. The estanciero reccommended the 
utmost vigilance to Mercedes, closed the door, and then seated himself 
by the bombero’s side. 

“ Well ? ” he asked him. 

The Plaza Mayor on this day offered an unexpected sight. In the 
centre rose a tall scaffold covered with red velvet tapestry, on which a chair 
of carved nopal wood was placed. The back was surmounted by a 
massive gold sun flashing with diamonds ; a vulture of the Andes, the 
sacred bird of the Aucas, also of gold, held in its bent beak an imperial 
crown, while in its claws it had a sceptre terminating in a trident, and a 
hand of justice holding a dazzling sun. This vulture, with outstretched 
wings, seemed hovering over the chair, to which there was an ascent of 
four steps. On the right of this chair was another, somewhat lower, but 
more simple. 

At mid-day, the moment when the day-star at its zenith darts forth all 
its beams, five cannon-shots, fired at regular intervals, boomed forth 
majestically. At the same moment the different tribes debouched 
through each of the entrances of the square, led by their ulmen, and 


122 


The Last of the Aucas, 


dressed in their robes of state. Only five thousand warriors were 
assembled, for, according to the Indian custom, as soon as Carmen was 
taken, the booty was sent under safe escort to the mountains, and the 
troops disbanded and returned to their tolderias, ready to come back, 
however, on the first signal. 

The tribes drew up on three sides, leaving the fourth vacant, which 
was soon occupied by five hundred gauchos. The latter were mounted 
and well armed, while the Indians were on foot, and had only their 
machetes in their girdles. The windows were lined with spectators, 
behind whom Indian women, irregularly grouped, thrust out their heads 
over their shoulders. 

The centre of the square was free. In front of the scaffolding, and at 
the foot of a clumsy altar shaped like a table, with a deep gutter running 
down' it and a sun above it, stood the great matchi and twenty priests, all 
with their arms crossed and their eyes fixed on the ground. 

When all had taken their places five more gunshots were fired, and a 
brilliant cavalcade came up. Nocobotha, who marched at their head, 
with Dona Cocha on his right and Don Valentine on his left, held his 
totem in his hand. After them came the principal ulmens and caras- 
kens of the united nations with their brilliant ornaments of gold and 
precious stones. 

Nocobotha got off his horse, held out hi^ nand to Dona Concha to 
help her to dismount, mounted the scaffold, led her to the second chair, 
and himself stopped before the first one, though without sitting down. 
His ordinary pale features were inflamed, his eyes seemed swollen by 
watching, and he incessantly wiped away the perspiration that stood on 
his forehead. Something unusual was going on within him. Dona 
Concha’s pallor was extreme, but her face was tranquil. 

The ulmens surrounded the scaffold, and at a third cannonade, the 
priests stepped on one side and displayed a securely-bound man lying on 
the ground in their midst. The matchi burned to the crowd. 

“ All you who listen to me : The sun, our ancestor, has smiled on our 
arms, and Gualichu himself fought for us. The empire of the Aucas 
is established, the Indians are free, and the supreme chief of the Pata- 
gonian nation, Nocobotha, is about to place on his head the diadem of 
Athahualpa. In the name of the new emperor and ourselves we are 
about to offer to the sun, from whom he is descended, the most grateful 
of all sacrifices. Priests, bring up the victim.” 

The priests laid the unhappy wretch in the trough of the altar. He 
was a colonist made prisoner at the taking of Poblacion del Sur; indeed, 
the pulpero in whose shop the gauchos were accustomed to drink their 
chica. 

In the meanwhile Nocobotha trembled as if smitten with ague. He 
had a buzzing in his ears ; his temples beat violently, and his eyes weit 
suffused with blood. He supported himself on one of the arms of his 
chair. 

“ What is the matter ?” Dona Concha asked him. 

“ I do not know,” he answered ; “ the heat, the excitement, perhaps— 
I am stifling I hope it will be nothing.” 


The Last of the Aucas. 


r23 


The unfortunate prisoner had been stripped of all his clothes, 
wifh the exception of his trousers, and he uttered heart- 
rending cries. The matchi approached him, brandishing his 
knife. 

“ Oh, it is frightful 1 ” Dona Concha exclaimed, burying her face in 
her hands. 

“ Silence ! ” Nocobotha murmured ; “ it must be. There is ao help 
for it.” 

The matchi, insensible to the yells of the victim, selected ^the spot 
where he was to strike, looked at the day star with an inspired 
air, raised his knife, and laid open the pulpero’s chest. Then, 
while the victim writhed in agony, and the priests collected the 
blood which poured in a stream, the matchi plucked out his 
heart, and held it up to the sun, like the host in Catholic 
churches. 

At this moment all the ulmens mounted the scaffold, and seating 
Nocobotha on the throne, raised him on their shoulders, shouting en- 
thusiastically — 

“ Long live the new emperor ! long live the son of the sun ! ” 

The priests sprinkled the crowd with the blood of the victim, and the 
Indians filled the air with deafening shouts. 

At length Nocobotha exclaimed, “ I have restored the empire of the 
Aucas, and freed my race 1 ” 

“ Not yet ! ” Dona Concha said to him, triumphantly. “ Look ! ” 

The gauchos, who had hitherto been impassive spectators of the 
ceremony, suddenly dashed at a gallop upon the defenceless Indians, 
while through all the streets poured regular troops, who had arrived 
from Buenos Ayres, and all the windows were lined with white men, who 
fired at the mob. In the centre of the square could be recogn.sed Don 
Sylvio d’Arenal, Bias Sallazar, Pedrito and his two brothers, who 
pitilessly massacred the Indians with shouts of “ Exterminate the 
pagans ! ” 

“ Oh ! ” Nocobotha exclaimed, brandishing his totem with a trembling 
hand, “ what treachery 1 ” 

He tried to fly to the help of his people, but he tottered and fell on his 
knees ; his eyes were covered by an ensanguined mist ; a devouring 
fire burnt his entrails. “ What is the matter ? ” he asked himself in 
despair. 

“ You are dying, Don Torribio,” Dona Concha whispered in his ear, as 
she seized his arm forcibly. 

“ Woman, you lie,” he said, striving to rise. “ I will help my 
brothers.” 

“ Your brothers are being slaughtered ; did you not mean to kill my 
father, my affianced husband, and myself ? Die, villain ! die by a 
woman’s hand I I love Don Sylvio — do you hear me ? — and I am 
avenged.” 

“ Woe, woe ! ” Nocobotha shrieked, dragging himself on his knees to 
the edge of the platform, “ I am the murderer of a people 1 wished to 
save.” 


124 


The Last t ^ucas. 


But his strength was rapidly failing, and the mighty Nocobotha 
was now as powerless for either good or evil as the ensanguined 
corpses of the Indians that were lying around the scaffold. 

Dona Concha’s eyes flashed upon him — a flash of triumph mingled 
with pity. 

In the meantime the white men, urged on by their leaders, continued 
the pitiless massacre of the entrapped, surprised, and disorganised 
Indians. , 

Don Torribio, his fierce spirit struggling for the mastery over his 
physical weakness, seemed for a moment to regain a transitory 
vigour. 

Rising from his knees, he staggered feebly to his feqt, drew his 
trembling hand across his failing eyes, and looked sadly around 
him. 

The Indians were falling like ripe corn before the sickle of the reapers. 
It was no longer a combat, but a butchery. Several chiefs flying before 
Pedrito, the capataz, and Don Sylvio rushed to the platform as a last 
refuge. 

Here they gathered closely around their leader to make their final 
stand. 

All, however, was useless. 

Pedrito, the capataz, and Don Sylvio, mercilessly cutting down all 
before them, sprang upon the platform, followed by the bravest of their 
men. 

Don Sylvio, with one glance of blended love and admiration at his 
devoted Concha, rushed towards Nocobotha, waving his sword and 
shouting — 

“ Death to the traitor.” 

“ Oh ! ” Nocobotha howled, as he took a tiger bound and seized Don 
Sylvio by the throat, “ I too will revenge myself.” 

There was a moment of terrible anxiety. 

Every one on the scaffold held back his weapon in suspense. 

Dona Concha, with hands clasped and eyes raised to heaven, 
uttered, in a tone of concentrated supplication, the words — 

“ Oh, save him.” 

“ No,” the chief added, letting loose his enemy and falling 
back ; “ it would be cowardly, for this man has done me no in. 
jury.” 

Dona Concha, on hearing these words, could not restrain tears 
of admiration, tardy tears ; tears of repentance, or of love, perhaps 1 

She half-repented her part in the tragedy now taking place. 

But it was too late. 

Nocobotha lay upon the scaffold that was to have been the scene of 
flis glory, enveloped in the trappings of barbaric splendour. 

The vital spark was now but faintly flickering. 

Pedrito fired his rifle into the chest of the chief, who was lying 
stretched out at his feet. At the same instant Pincheira fell, his head 
cleft asunder by Don Sylvio. Don Valentine, struck by a straggling 
bullet, sank into his disconsolate daughter’s arms. 


The Last of the Aucas. 




** My God,” Nocobotha murmured, “ you will judge me I ” He 
looked up to heaven, moved his lips again as if in prayer, and 
suddenly his countenance became radiant ; he fell back and ex- 
pired. 

“ Perhaps this man’s cause was just,” Dona Concha said, overwhelmed 
with remorse. 

It is not the first time that a woman has, through the decree of Heaven, 
arrested a conc^ueror* 





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“PAPA’S OWN GIRL” 

By Marie Howland- 


The manuscript of this great American Novel was. 
submitted by the author to one of the ablest of our edi- 
torial critics, who, after a careful perusal, returned it with 
the following analysis of its rare excellence : 

As 1 think cf them, the meny women and children of your story 
seem like actually living heingSy whom / have met and lived withy 07 
perhaps may meet to-morrow. 

“ The last half of your novel is grander than anything GEORGE 
ELIOT ever wrote. I am not, in saying this, disparaging the first 
half of the story y hut this last part is a n<w gospd. THE COUNT 
is a creation suggested by the best qualities of the best men you have 
known. THE SOCIAL PALACEy as you have painted ity is the 
heaven of humanity; and the best of it isy that it is a heaven capable of 
realization. ***** -^^ * 

DAN'^S returUy and of his meeting until MIN, is indescribably patheticl 
no one could read it with dry eyes, and the moral element involved is 
more effective than in any dramatic situation in literature. With the 
true; fidelity of the artist you have given perfect attention to^your minor 
characters y '‘TOO SOON"' fo 7 ' example; and I admire the tact with 
which you bring over Mrs. FOREST into sympathy with the SOCIAL 
PALACE and W OMANIS RIGHTS. This is true ART. Your 
novel throughout meets aU the great questions of the day, even the finan^ 
dal oney and it is the best trandation of GODIN that could be given. 
You will find a PUBLISHERy be sure of thaty and THE NOVEL 
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THE TIME.'^ 

This powerfully written and artistic Novel is to the social 
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One volume, 1 2mo, Lovell’s Library, No. 534^; 
30 cents; Cloth, 45 cents. 


JOHN' W. LOVELL CO., Ei^blisliers, 

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OUH EOMAIT PALACE 

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One Volume^ 12mo.^ Paper ^ 20 cts,^ Clothe SH etSt, 


Opinions of the Press. 

“ One of the most charming of recent noYQ\s,y~PMlaCl£lphia Ttem. 

“ It is refined in tone, and will doubtless find^many readei j to welcome 
it.”— New YorK Daily Grapliic. 

“The story is worth the reading, and Hilda is a character that must excite 
djmpathy and admiration, especially of the S. P. C. K.”—PhilaaelpMa Eve- 
ning Bulletin. 

“ A love story of the better class ; the tone is elevating and refined, and 
reading it is like living with nice people, and enjoying their pleasurea'and 
social life. It is one of the most fascinating novels we have seen for a long 
time. A real treat.”— Por^^a^^d Argus. 

“ What shall we say of a book in which is not one love story alone, but in 
which three full-fledged ones are concentered ? The author writes not only 
CBtertainingly, but she interweaves much that is excellent in tone and com- 
mendable in precept and example.”— Tro?/ Whig. 

“ It is pure in tone, refined in sentiment, and with a movement sufficiently 
rapid to keep the reader interested to the very end. Some conversations on 
music show that the author understands the divine art.”— Aem YorTc Evening 
[ Mail. 

“ ‘ Hilda and I ’ is a rest to the weary after the turbulence of recent un- 
limited folios of tragedy. It is a rich feast of pleasantness in all possible 
directions. Music, art and all charming things rise up before one in the right 
place and at the proper moment .”— Yorlc Home Journal. 

“ Fresh and breezy as sea air ; full of originality in plot and incident, with 
well drawn characters, who live and move with individuality and Interest. 
The heroine. Hilda, is at once charming, and a new creation in fictir*'-'' 
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moral exceVeiit.”—BHdgeport Standard. 


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The treatmeixt of many thousands of 
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inflammation, pain and tenderness in) 
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eases. Their combined use also removes 
blood taints, and abolishes cancerous 
and scrofulous humors from the system. 

Treating tlie Wrong Disease.— 
;Many times women call on their famil^^ 
physicians, suffering, as they imagina 
one from dyspepsia, another from heart 
disease, another from liver or kidney 
disease, another from nervous exhaus- 
tion or prostration, another with pain 
here or there, and in this way they aU 
present alike to themselves and their 
easy-going and indifferent, or over-busy 
doctor, separate and distinct diseases, 
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potions, assuming them to be such, 
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toms caused by some womb disorder. 
The physician, ignorant of the cause of 
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large bills are made. The suffering pa- 
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by reason of the delay, wrong treatment 
and consequent complications. A prop- 
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‘^Favorite Prescription” is the 
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Farge bottles (1(X) doses) $1,005 ok 
six bottles for $5.00. I 

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